"Explain to me again; why are we doing this?" Aleksander asks, slightly exasperated, as he follows his best friend around a vintage store. Call him a snob, but he's just not used to buying second-hand stuff. Nothing wrong with it, he just refuses to wear suits that are not tailored.
Luda doesn't seem to mind his question, laughing as she walks ahead of him, not paying attention to the rows of clothing next to her. She seems to know exactly what she's looking for. His blue-eyed friend rarely did things without a plan or having visualized an endgame.
He still doesn't understand why she is dating his sister, but alas, that is a question for another day.
"I told you! I need accessories for my costume," she says as she turns to look at him and smiles. Immune as ever to his shitty behavior. "C'mon, don't be such a grump."
She promptly grabs his hand and guides them to the back of the store, where all the accessories are laid out for customers to see. He lets her because there is just no point for him to fight her now, once she successfully hijacked his lunch hour and forced him to drive to this Saint forsaken place.
"And why would you need a costume?" he asks as Luda lets go of their joined hands and starts to look around.
"Saints! You're so annoying when you want to be. I already told you, but fine." She turns to look at him. Although he knows she's trying to keep a serious face, she still smiles at him. Warm and candid, two words to describe his best friend. "I want to have a costume party. I will only turn thirty once, and I thought it was a good idea. Your sister agreed."
Well of course Ulla thought it was a good idea! His sister was high from all the love she had for Luda. As far as Aleksander is concerned, Ulla could not be trusted right now. Oxytocin surely impedes one from making sensible decisions.
"You need to find a costume as well!" Luda exclaims as she looks at the vintage jewelry in front of her. Some of the things displayed are absolutely hideous, but Aleksander recognizes there are salvageable pieces the birthday girl could work into her costume. "And I mean it, Aleksander. You cannot just use one of your suits and say you're a CEO, a businessman, or James Bond…"
"What about a sugar daddy?" he asks cheekily, but Luda turns to look at him with so much determination he's truly surprised. In ten years of friendship, he has never seen her like this. She almost looks threatening, almost.
She promptly ignores him and continues talking, "…and for the love of all that you consider holy, don't you dare to come shirtless to my party and claim you're the Saints' gift to women." Her index finger is pressed against his chest. It doesn't really hurt, but it is annoying, so he takes her hand and nods. Let it be known that Aleksander Morozova is nothing if not a good friend.
He dares to act coy when replying to her. "I would never do that. What mighty ideas you have, Lu. Your birthday falls on October 31st. I would surely freeze if I end up going shirtless," he replies, and Luda rolls her eyes at him.
Apparently, his friend decides that she believes his words because she proceeds to explain. "Ulla and I are going as Clara Zelverhaus and The Nutcracker." Aleksander nods in response. He knows Luda loves the Kerch folktale 'The Soldier Prince' as it reminds her of her grandma. "If you want, you can join us and go as Droessen," she offers, but this time Aleksander shakes his head. He's not particularly interested in doing a group costume, much less with his sister and girlfriend. He loves them both, but that would be too much.
"There is no need for that. I promise you I can find a decent costume on my own," Aleksander says to calm his friend down. He doesn't want to see her get all threatening for no reason. At that, Luda beams at him and presses a kiss on his cheek. Aleksander smiles at the gesture, he can't deny it was nice to see her this happy.
"Thank you, Sasha. Now, help me find some cool accessories!" She orders, and he dutifully joins her efforts.
"You're really threatening when you want to be, you know?" He comments, eliciting a giggle from his friend. So much for threatening.
"I know, I learned from the best," she answers before picking a necklace and showing it to him. He nods, it can definitely work for her as Clara.
"Me?" he asks as they move further down the display.
Luda doesn't even bother hiding her laugh after his question. She turns to look at him, thoroughly entertained. "Are you shitting me? Of course not. Your sister taught me. She's the superior Morozova if you ask me."
Aleksander rolls his eyes. Well of fucking course.
Luda continues to walk, and he follows her, carrying whatever she deems could be useful for her costume. "You know," she comments as she tries on a particular ring. It doesn't pair well with either Ulla or her costume, so she shakes her head. "Maybe you can dress as the Black Heretic."
"What? Why?" he asks as she hands him the ring she was just trying. It has a talon on it. It's absolutely beautiful. Luda must know it fits him better, therefore, why she handed it to him.
"Because you kinda look alike. You've seen the portraits at the Ravkan National Gallery," she says, matter-of-factly. He suppresses his desire to groan.
As a matter of fact, he has indeed seen the damned portrait, multiple times. His sister loves to tease him mercilessly about his resemblance with the mythical character that supposedly split the country into two. The myth was something that had little impact on his world, so he tended to forget about the supposed resemblance. But every once in a while, someone would remind him that his face bore an uncanny resemblance to the hated Grisha.
Aleksander didn't have time for things like myths, especially ones that bordered on fairy tale territory. Is he really supposed to believe there was once a superior race of people who had particular abilities and practiced the 'small sciences'? He couldn't deny a part of him thought the whole thing was fascinating, but that was when he was growing up. Now he was an adult, and he understood that sometimes history had gaps, and therefore the best way to fill those was with stories. There was no proof that Grisha existed, that the Black Heretic created the Fold, or that there was once a woman who could summon light.
Those were just stories, a way to embellish Ravka's history. He doesn't want to admit, not even to himself, that a part of him —a part that has survived through the centuries— feels drawn to the story, to the way the Black Heretic and the Sun Summoner seemed to be entangled in more ways than one. Aleksander often scolds himself, because he is not a child. There is no reason to believe in fairy tales anymore. And yet…
"It could be a cool costume. I think it would fit you," she says when he shows her the ring. It's not a costume, but it's a start, he thinks as he studies how the ring looks on his finger. It fits perfectly on his pinky finger, and it's somewhat unsettling that a piece of metal feels so familiar to him. He shakes his head as discreetly as he can, the last thing he wants is to voice out loud his thoughts and have Luda start worrying about him.
Still, he doesn't take off the ring, something tells him not to. A part of him, the one that's survived countless lifetimes, remembers that it belongs to him. That the ring has always been his.
"The costume or the ring?" he asks, and Luda stops looking at the ring to lock eyes with him. There's a proud smile on her lips.
"Both," she answers.
That settles it, then. He's going as the Black Heretic.
"Are you sure I'm invited?" Alina asks as she finishes with her makeup. They're not running late, but she doesn't want to risk it.
"Linka, I told you already. When Luda invited me and I asked about you, she told me she considered you invited already. I promise you, you're not crashing her party," Mal explains from the living room.
In the year he's been working as Luda's research assistant, Alina has been unable to meet the woman. Tonight was finally the night. She couldn't deny she was excited to meet the person Mal spoke so highly of. She could understand, of course, because the kind of work they did together was riveting. A deep study on the PTSD experienced by young men when returning from war. It was fascinating but also, deeply personal as Mal had enlisted as soon as he could. He had been one of the lucky ones, having been able to reenter society and have a well-adjusted life. That meant he wanted to help, so he sought the opportunity to work by Luda's side.
Alina was proud of him. But it made her wonder; what was she doing with her life? Right, she was playing with flowers. It's not like she was trying to diminish her job. After all, she did love flowers. But how was that important? How was that relevant? She gave people a certain amount of happiness, there was no denying that. But, in fifty years, Luda and Mal's investigation would have made an impact. Her flowers would not.
Well, enough of that. She was enthusiastic about meeting Luda tonight.
"Mal!" She exclaims once she leaves the room. "You look amazing!" Her brother smiles at her and mockingly twirls for her to see his costume. It's a brilliant replica of a First Army uniform.
"Thank you. Amazon was a huge help," Mal jokes before taking a good look at her. He shakes his head, almost fondly, but he also sounds slightly exasperated. "Sol Koroleva, Alina, really?"
Alina blushes furiously as Mal proposes his question. She knows he means no ill, but she feels put on the spot. The myth of Sol Koroleva had always been her favorite, ever since she was a child. That hadn't changed much now that she was an adult.
Always holed up at the orphanage's library, Alina found refuge from the cruel world in the books and stories that welcomed her. Books never bullied or teased her mercilessly, and she devoted herself to them. That being said, she was devoted to the myth of Sol Koroleva and the Black Heretic with a little more devotion than the others. She was absolutely committed to reading, investigating, and simply consuming everything about them. She couldn't explain it back then, and now she still didn't have the words to explain why. Why that myth resonated with her.
Sol Koroleva was, without a doubt, one of her favorite characters. So, it made sense that Alina would turn herself into Ravka's savior, especially when her hair was already white. She never thought that she would start going grey before she was legally allowed to drink, and yet, there she was. A combination of her poor health and the stressful life she lived had left her with white hair. The doctors could hardly explain, often telling her that most likely there was a hereditary factor there.
In many ways they were right. But mortals could hardly grasp the intricacies of reincarnation.
Alina barely cared about her hair anymore, especially when it brought her closer to the Sun Summoner. "Yes, I thought it was a good idea," she says, sheepishly. Alina was not about to apologize for doing what she wanted. As far as she was concerned, she might not have another opportunity to dress up, so she was going all out. "She's one of my favorite characters."
No, Alina realizes, Sol Koroleva was her favorite character. There was just no other, period. her pull towards Sol Koroleva, towards this mythical woman that did everything in her power to unite Ravka, was something she never put into words, but it was there. Somehow she saw herself in that woman, in the mythical Sun Summoner. It felt silly because that wasn't the complete story. There was still something she couldn't explain. How she felt deeply for her and the Heretic. She was a hopeless romantic, after all, and a part of her just knew they were destined to be together. It was such a shame their story had to end in tragedy.
She always thought her love for them and their story was just because she was an overly sensitive child, but even now, she was unable to shake the feeling that there was more to it.
"Of course, Linka. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so rude. You look incredible," Mal asserts, and Alina smiles at him. She knows he means well. "Are you ready?" Alina grabs the bouquet and the gift before nodding. Off they go to their costume party in the suburbs.
They take an Uber as Mal doesn't want to be the designated driver. He is planning on drinking until he could "embarrass himself in front of his boss". According to him, Luda was looking forward to that happening.
"Wow, this is a beautiful place," Alina comments as the driver stops in front of a two-floor house in the suburbs. It's painted pale pink and while beautiful, Alina thinks the front yard could use more flowers. Although it was almost November, so maybe it wasn't the best time of year to make assessments about green things.
"She moved in recently with her girlfriend. Luda is expecting a proposal soon," Mal explains as they make their way through the front yard. "Apparently she's been leaving hints for Ulla."
Alina nods, knowing that he has never met his boss' longtime partner, but he was pretty familiar as Luda was very open about their relationship. At this point, even Alina knew Ulla and Luda's love life. That's why Alina knew she liked her without having actually met her.
"You know nothing of the sort, okay?" Mal warns as they stop in front of the door. Alina dutifully nods as the door opens, with a beautiful blue-eyed woman on the other side of it.
"MAL! You're here!" The woman exclaims, tugging her brother into a hug. The woman's eyes fall on her as Mal hugs her back. There is no doubt this is Luda. "Oh, you brought Alina. Finally!" She gets rid of Mal like he's no longer exciting and hugs Alina now. "I've been dying to meet you. I'm so glad you're here!"
Alina can completely understand why Mal likes working with this woman. She gives amazing hugs, and it's obvious that she has golden retriever energy.
"Thank you for inviting us. Happy birthday, by the way," Alina says once they have separated, offering her a gift bag. It was a knitted jumper Mal said was perfect for her. They had also brought her a bouquet, as Alina thought it would be a nice gesture.
"Mal said you were amazing with flowers. This is beautiful Alina, thank you. I hope it was no bother…" Alina is about to reply when Luda calls for her girlfriend. "Ulla! Ulla, come!"
Alina and Mal exchange a side-eye, and although she has no clue what he must be thinking, as he was surely used to his boss' antics, she knows he's also entertained by the whole ordeal.
"This is my girlfriend, Ulla. I've been waiting for you to meet Mal forever. And this is Alina, his sister," Luda makes the introductions when Ulla joins them. They shake hands and exchange pleasantries as Alina takes in their costumes.
She remembers the Kerch folktale, Ulla is dressed like the nutcracker and Luda is Clara. They look amazing. They completely look the part, elegant and regal. Not only that, but they also look completely in love. As far as Alina can tell, Luda can expect a proposal sooner rather than later, at least in Alina's humble opinion.
They make their way from the entrance to the kitchen, talking animatedly. Ulla is a reporter who's been all over the place. She's talking to Mal about her recent trip to Kribirsk, where she saw a First Army uniform in a museum. Safe to say, she's shredding Mal's costume to pieces. He, however, is taking it in stride.
"You should've taken advice from your sister. Her costume is amazing. Sol Koroleva? Shit! I'm sure not even the real deal looked this good," Ulla praises and Alina blushes. She was proud of her costume, but she also didn't think it was that much. If she's being honest, the cheap fabric was a little scratchy. It looked gorgeous, so at least it did the job. "You should always listen to your sister. I'm telling you this because I'm a sister, and we're always right."
Alina turns to look at Mal. He has never mentioned that Ulla has a brother. While he might've never met her, he was well versed in their lives, so it's very likely he would have known. She's surprised to realize Mal is avoiding her eyes, which cements her suspicion that he kept that piece of knowledge to himself. Why? Alina doesn't know, but it feels strange. Mal never keeps things from her, so why would he decide to hide that Ulla has a brother? It seems like such an odd thing to do.
"You're a sister?" Alina ends up asking once Luda finishes serving them all drinks. It's obvious Mal won't tell her shit, so she just decides to ask.
Ulla looks at her and there's something disconcerting in the way she looks at Alina. She can't quite put her finger on it, but it's deep and meaningful. As if her simple question was not as simple as it seemed to be.
"Sasha is in here somewhere. I can't wait for you to meet him. He's the absolute best!" Luda is the one who explains, looking at Alina with a smile. "He's going to like your costume, actually. Don't you think, Ulla?"
Ulla hasn't stopped watching Alina, even as her girlfriend spoke. The woman is gorgeous but imposing and quite intimidating. Alina feels like hiding behind Mal, but she decides not to shy away from her. Ulla must realize because she smirks before answering.
"I think he's in for a treat."
Aleksander is sick of people.
He bragged about his patience and his manners, but he was a human being. He had a breaking point and these fucking party guests were testing it. Don't people have decency anymore? Is that too much to ask? Luda was the nicest person he knew, where did she find these savages?
Following Luda's suggestion, Aleksander had dressed up as the Black Heretic. Genya had helped him, she had had a field trip looking for high-quality pieces that came together so that he could look the part. The result had been amazing, Genya had absolutely outdone herself. As he watched himself in his mirror, he had truly believed that he was Ravka's most hated man, the one that tore the country apart.
Almost every inch of his skin was covered and yet, guests at the party still pestered him about his tattoos. Aleksander appreciated the enthusiasm for his craft. He was grateful people liked his tattoos, after all, his livelihood depended on that. But there was a line and people at the party crossed it. Asking for him to show his body, trying to actually reveal his skin, was too fucking much for him to bear.
So, he found himself hiding in the upstairs bathroom. If his sister could see him now. Standing up next to her drawers and checking his dog camera so that Volcra and Iris can help him wind down. When humans suck, his two dogs make everything better.
He doesn't plan to stay there for a long time, but before he has a chance to leave, the door opens and Aleksander's eyes go from his phone to the most beautiful person he's ever seen.
A petite woman, several inches shorter than him, but with a pull that can't compare to anything else. Everything about her makes him want to look and never take his eyes away from her. She's doe-eyed and although the first thought he had is that she's beautiful, there's a certain cuteness about her. She looks young and full of life. It practically comes out of her pores, if she has, because her skin is beautiful, like porcelain. The only thing that makes it certain that it's not porcelain are the freckles that scatter around her nose. Her makeup is simple, only used to enhance her natural beauty.
An odd thought intrudes his mind: he would like to see her in the morning light.
Aleksander shouldn't be looking at her so openly, but he can't stop himself. His throat feels dry, but he resists the urge to clear it as his eyes move to her headpiece. A beautiful work of art, a crown fitting for such an enchanting creature. The white wig is a nice touch, and it compliments her perfectly, but the headpiece, as simple as it is, is breathtaking. If he wasn't sure the myth was just that, a myth, then he would believe that the woman in front of him is the real Sol Koroleva.
She might as well be an actual Sun Summoner, as she has brought all the sunlight with her.
Even her dress seems to go beyond a simple costume. The attention to detail goes beyond the headpiece that rests atop of her beautiful head. The dress is golden as if she went on a mission to look for a fabric that's more golden than gold. It fits her like a glove, wrapping her and hanging to her every curve. It's sleeveless and floor-length, with a black velvety belt that accentuates her waist. A small nod to the Darkling, he's sure. It makes him smile, that little hint of darkness in the light.
His eyes focus on her neck. It's beautiful, and it would look even more beautiful if he would be able to kiss it, but he shakes the thought and focuses on the high neck of the gown and the details on her shoulders. There's no need for sleeves when the dress has embroidered sun motifs around the top part of the gown. It pairs perfectly with the antler earrings that hang from her ears.
She looks as if she was born from a ray of light as if she's the daughter of the Sun. As his eyes roam around her body —trying to be a decent person and not focus too much on the sweetheart neckline and how great her breasts look— he thinks he can understand the followers of the Sun Summoner.
He's ready to start worshiping her right then and there. No need to know her name. It would be nice, of course, to know the name of the woman that has him under his spell without even opening her mouth, but it's fine.
"Moi soverennyi," the woman says to him. She's using the title that was supposedly used by the Heretics followers to address him. Aleksander has no clue if that is a fact or a piece of gossip fabricated by history, but the way she says it, flirty, with a cheeky edge… Aleksander would not mind being addressed as such from now on.
As a matter of fact, he wouldn't mind being addressed by whatever way her heart desired. He's pretty sure that whatever comes out of her pretty lips will be fine with him.
"Sol Koroleva," he echoes. His eyes never leave her face, and he is witness to the way her cheeks redden after hearing him. What a precious creature indeed.
"I'm sorry. I thought the bathroom was empty. I didn't mean to barge in," she apologizes and by all means, he hears it, but he can only focus on her lips. How pretty, how pink they are. Aleksander also focuses on her voice, because it's obvious she's experiencing some level of embarrassment, but her voice doesn't break or waver.
"Do not apologize. I am the one hoarding the place," he says, before adding, "I'm just glad you didn't catch me doing something… indecent." He purposely lowers his voice when saying that last word. He can't help it, he wants to see how she reacts. She doesn't disappoint, she bites her lip and looks at him with pupils shining with desire.
The atmosphere is interrupted by a bark.
The woman's eyes fall on his phone and a mischievous smile forms on her face. "Weren't you?" she asks, and Aleksander laughs.
"Just checking on my dogs," he explains, showing his phone to her. Iris and Volcra rarely got into trouble. Currently, they were laying on the couch and Iris had decided to bark at the empty apartment, for some reason. She probably sensed that he needed to impress someone and decided to bark. Her way of saying, dad, what are you trying to do?
Luckily, the woman didn't seem to care. She simply approached him and cooed at the screen. "Oh, look at them! They are so pretty!"
He would normally agree with her because his dogs are majestic. Iris, a Labrador-Retriever, and Volcra, a Fjerdan Elkhound. They were both properly taken care of and regularly groomed, his dogs could easily beat a show dog without breaking a sweat. Aleksander, however, is unable to voice his agreement because he's looking at her, at this woman he doesn't even know, much less know her name. He would like to know more about her, but right now he knows she's gorgeous and that's more than what he needs.
"How cute!" the woman says while looking at the screen with a smile on her lips. Her face turns to his, barely inches apart. He can see every freckle and count her eyelashes. Aleksander could kiss her right now. He doesn't, of course, but the thought unsettles him because he's not one to be ruled by his emotions and yet, there he is. "I thought the Heretic was supposed to be ruthless. What would everyone say if they knew your weakness is dogs?"
Aleksander can't deny it, he's intrigued by her. They don't even know each other's names and there they are, flirting in a bathroom, of all places.
"Maybe that is why he was eventually defeated. We just met, and you already know my secret," he whispers, trying to get even closer to her as he possibly can without coming off as a creep.
She smells like irises, and he wonders if it's her shampoo or her perfume. He decides it doesn't matter, he wants it on his bed.
Her eyes fall on his lips, and she licks hers before her gaze falls on his face. It's thrilling to know he's not the only one experiencing whatever this is. Infatuation? A crush? Something else? He settles on the last one. Words hardly fail him, and yet if he had to explain the pull he feels towards her, he would fall silent.
"Your costume is really impressive, by the way," the woman says, "If I didn't know this was a costume party I would believe it's the real deal."
"If it was the real deal, then you would be destined to defeat me. I think I am glad that is not the case, as I am enjoying our conversation." The woman seems amused by his commentary, and although he is proud of having elicited that reaction, he decides to add, "I think you look lovely, by the way," he says and while he's as honest as he can be, he needs to stop for a second. There's this feeling of déjà vu that invades him after he speaks as if this was not the first time he said something of the sort. As if he had already called her lovely, ages ago.
Aleksander shakes his head to get rid of the ridiculous feeling. Instead, he focuses on her. She beams at him and Aleksander thinks it's fitting that she's dressed as the Sun summoner because she shines as brightly as the sun. That, however, is not the most important thing he concludes at that second. Because she uses her left hand to tuck a strand of hand behind her ear, and he realizes it's free of any type of ring.
Good. He thinks he might want to make her his.
When Luda ushered her towards the upstairs bathroom, Alina didn't expect to find a man there. But not just any man, just about the most beautiful man she's ever seen. It's obscene, really. He should be in a museum, not at a costume party in the suburbs.
As her eyes roam from his face, and she takes in his costume, she realizes he doesn't belong to a museum. Instead, it seems like he escaped from Ravka's National Gallery. The Black Heretic himself standing in Luda and Ulla's bathroom, incredible.
He's so tall, Alina has to look up, which seems to be a mistake because she finds he has the darkest eyes she has ever seen. His gaze, however, is not hard, but curious. They are both taking each other in, so Alina feels like she has free range to look at him because if she's being honest, she doesn't want to look away. Not when he looks absolutely dashing.
He's tall, dark, and handsome, which is a combination Alina never thought she'd be into. She likes people that are soft and nice. Girls that held her after sex, and cute boys that blushed as she does. This man does not seem like that, he seems like he could wreck her without even having to lift a finger. She's sure his voice is something else, and her stomach swoops at the mere thought of hearing it.
But then she stops looking at his ridiculous face and starts to look at his costume. Alina has to make an actual effort not to giggle because, well, it seems like they're in a couple's costume. He's the Shadow Summoner, and she's the Sun Summoner; however, whereas her costume is rather simple, his looks regal, like it's the real deal. The kefta is so dark it seems to have come out straight out of the Fold, conjured from shadows themselves. The embroidery is a work of art, probably done by an expert artist. All he's wearing seems to have come from a couture house.
Expensive and historically accurate boots, tailored trousers, a beautiful kefta, and a core-cloth underneath. Alina swears she's in front of the black general. Surely that's what possesses her to open her mouth and address him as such.
"Moi soverennyi," she says, and he smirks in response. What a beautiful sight he makes.
She doesn't know what exactly possesses her. Maybe it's the glass of wine she just drank or maybe that she's not completely sure he's real, but Alina flirts with him. Not just one flirty line, but she actually continues to flirt with him while having a conversation. She even manages to come closer to him. He smells expensive, like whiskey and leather. His aftershave probably costs more than her rent.
This stranger is attractive and a good conversationalist, but he also seems to be genuinely interested in her. She could doubt herself, as she normally does. Lately, Alina doubts herself as regularly as she breathes, but somehow, she doesn't doubt about his interest is genuine.
His eyes don't lie. His body language doesn't lie. This pull is not a one-way street. He's in, just like her. But even if she could even contemplate having at least some remnants of doubts, he decides to speak and silences whatever silly thought she could entertain. Like the Black Heretic, he manipulates the shadows, just that this time, he dispels them from her mind.
"You look lovely, by the way," he says, and Alina positively swoons. No one has called her lovely. Twenty-four years alive, and that's the first time she hears the compliment being directed at her. It's always at her arrangements, at the flowers. Someone other than herself considering her lovely? Never.
It is, however, something he has already told her, many, many lifetimes ago.
"My name is Alina, by the way," she says because the least she can do after his compliment is to tell him her name. He deserves to know, and she also has the right to know the name of the person who complimented her.
"Alina…" He says her name like no one else. It's like he wants to make her understand it's home now. Home, a four-letter word she still has trouble getting comfortable with. At this moment, however, she knows her name is safe with him. "My name is Aleksander."
Aleksander. She thinks it's a pretty name. It fits him, sounds regal but not too posh. It fits him like a glove, she concludes. And although she would like to say it, just like he did with hers, she's afraid of how it will come out. Names have power, after all, and he already claimed hers. What if it doesn't work the other way around?
"It's a pleasure to meet you." She ends up settling, just as she offers him her hand. While he takes it, he doesn't shake it. Instead, he brings it to his lips and kisses her knuckles. His lips feel warm against her skin, and it's such a nice feeling. He's dressed as the most hated man in Ravka and yet his touch is so gentle and caring, it's like an oxymoron.
She doesn't want to let go of his hand, but he eventually gives her hand back. Alina tries not to be too disappointed because of the lack of contact.
"A pleasure indeed, Alina." He sounds like he means it. It's not that his voice is deep and velvety and completely intoxicating, it's because he infuses each word with honesty and care.
She decides right then and there that her name belongs to him, no one else will ever come close to the way he says it, to how it makes her feel. "I'm afraid I have kept you entertained for far too long, moya Koroleva."
Alina isn't quite sure if this is a test to see if she wants to continue with their chat, but she also doesn't care. She wants to keep talking to him. There's a house full of people, and she only cares about the one standing in front of her. She only cares for this man who just a second ago was a stranger, and now she seems inexplicably tied to.
The same pull she feels towards Sol Koroleva, she felt with Aleksander. It was the same ache, but now directed towards someone real, someone she could see and speak with. It was unsettling to her because she didn't know him. She knew his name and that he had dogs. Alina also knew that he was dressed as the Sun Summoner's enemy, the Darkling, the Black Heretic. Given her bond with the mythical character she was dressed as, the logical thing would've been to want to run away, to be far away from him, and yet she feels the opposite.
Alina doesn't want him to go. So she decides she doesn't have to.
"I only came in here to reapply my makeup," she explains, although she was also curious and wanted to see the rest of the house without being too nosy. "It's not important."
"I know my opinion might not be needed here, but I think you look lovely," Aleksander says as he looks directly into her eyes. If people are correct and eyes are the windows to the soul, then Aleksander had looked straight into hers. There was nothing she could do to stop it, his dark eyes had locked with hers, and that had been it.
Black meets brown. Soul meets soul. And in the year 2021, the Starless Saint and Sankta Alina meet again. Only they don't have a clue of the ties that bind them. They remain oblivious to the lengths destiny's thread has gone to weave them together once again, so that maybe this time they can get it right.
It is up to them now.
But Alina doesn't know how to reply to his words; should she thank him? Should she downplay it? She decides to take the easy way out, so she clears her throat and speaks. "You already said that. Is that your only line?" It comes out more playful than she intended, but there's no turning back.
Aleksander raises an eyebrow. She has a hard time discerning if he's amused or mad, but then the corner of his lip curls upwards, and she knows it's fine. "The truth is never a line. But if you want, I can change my words," he tells her, and all Alina can do is look at him. She doesn't even fucking blink because all her attention is directed at his face. He looks so honest, so earnest… "I think you look beautiful. I am sure you get that all the time, but I do not want to be the only one not saying it."
Alina doesn't want to correct him and tell him people call her cute at best. Even if someone had called her beautiful, no one had said it like this. Aleksander says it like it's a fact like it's irrefutable, but also, his words are a gift. He finds her beautiful, and he's giving her the knowledge of it. It's a gift for her and no one else, he doesn't gain anything from his actions.
"Thank you," she says once she realizes she's been silent too long. Alina doesn't know what else to say, so she just motions to the mirror. "I'm just gonna…"
He nods and puts his phone inside his kefta. Even in costumes, men get pockets and girls don't. "I will leave you to it, then." Aleksander starts to walk towards the door, but she shakes her head. If he wants to go, then by all means, but he doesn't need to, and she certainly doesn't want to.
"You don't have to leave. This will only take a second." He stops moving and nods but doesn't say another word, and Alina isn't sure if she's thankful for that or if she would want him to speak.
Truth is, despite their somewhat playful back and forth, she thinks that ever since they laid eyes on each other, the whole atmosphere has been charged. Even now, as she looks at herself in the mirror, she's hyper-aware of his eyes on her. He could be looking anywhere else, and yet he isn't.
Alina feels a little silly because there's nothing really for her to do. If he wasn't there, she would've just taken a look in a mirror and that would be it. Somehow, she feels like she needs to do something, so she makes sure her headpiece is in the right place and that her hair looks good. Aleksander's eyes don't leave her as she reapplies her lipstick. Not once did his eyes dip to her body. He's looking at her openly, not trying to hide his behavior but, at the same time, successfully hiding what he's thinking.
The moment feels somewhat intimate, she thinks as she checks her eyelashes. Like a moment meant to be shared with a partner, with someone she had a deep connection with. Luckily, her silly thoughts are interrupted when she hears the distinctive sound of a picture being taken, and she turns around to find Aleksander with his phone. Once again there is a smile on his lips, but this time, it's not because of his dogs, but because of her.
Alina tries to ask what he is doing, but Aleksander speaks before she has the chance.
"I apologize if this is forward of me. If you want to, I can delete the picture," he says just as he offers his phone to her. It's a beautiful picture of her profile. Her eyes are glued to the mirror in front of her, she's captured by her own reflection. The picture, however, is not beautiful because she is. The picture is beautiful because Aleksander, just like the man he's dressed as, seems to have manipulated the shadows so that all the light in the photo remains around her.
He made her look like she's really Sol Koroleva. The light seems to come from her like Alina is the one that's illuminating the room. Realistically, she knows that she's not the Sun Summoner, but as she continues to look at the photo, she thinks she might as well be. Alina understands what he saw and why he had to immortalize the moment. There's no way she can be mad at his behavior.
Once again, Aleksander saw her beauty and gave it back to her. Another gift for her to treasure.
"There's no need," Alina whispers because she's still processing the beauty of the photo. Her eyes go from the phone to his face, and she kisses his cheek before she even has time to doubt herself. "Thank you, this is a beautiful photo." She doesn't stammer over her words, which is good, considering the kiss made her feel a thrill.
Alina wonders if he felt the same way. She knows he's still there because this thing, this deep ache she feels in her heart, is not something she's experiencing alone. But maybe he didn't feel the thrill she experienced. He could be just curious, or he could simply find the party boring, and he found in her something way more interesting.
For a second, she also ponders about the people they have dressed up as. They are said to have died as enemies, but some people object and say that they started as lovers. As opposites yes, but equals.
"I happen to agree with that," Aleksander answers, "and I happen to appreciate beautiful things." For the first time, his eyes leave his face and move to her body, eyeing appreciatively. She feels like her whole body is on fire, like his gaze is the match, and he wants her to burn under his gaze.
In her mind, there's no doubt of two facts: she's now one of his beautiful things, and she would gladly let him watch her like that forever.
When Alina proposes they rejoin the party, he has no reason to refuse her. He only escaped because he wanted to get away from nosy and rude party guests, but now she's by his side, so as far as he's concerned there are no other guests at the party. It's just them… And maybe Luda and his sister. They must be somewhere, he assumes.
"What do you do for a living?" he asks as they make their way to the first floor. The second the question leaves his lips, he shakes his head, because Alina seems young, maybe too young. It wouldn't hurt to find out her age. "Unless you are still in college."
She hides a laugh behind her lovely hand before she answers. "No, I didn't even last a semester in college," Alina admits as she finally reaches the bottom of the stairs. "I am a florist, I guess?"
"You guess?" he questions, showing genuine curiosity. She hasn't doubted herself since they started talking, and this doesn't seem to be a sensitive topic, but maybe it is.
"I have always loved flowers and plants. I went to college to learn more about them, but academia wasn't for me. So I left and started to work at a flower shop," she explains as they start to walk towards a secluded corner. Aleksander barely registers what his body is doing, as all of his attention is directed towards Alina. "I loved it there, but a couple of months ago I decided to quit. I learned a lot, but I want to be in charge of my own store. I've been freelancing since I quit. You know, showing my stuff on social media. I also enrolled in some business courses so that I know what I'm getting myself into if I ever open a store."
Aleksander nods, impressed by her explanation. She didn't sound confident, but that was something he could help with. The plan was there, she just needed support and to believe in herself.
"I majored in business, and I am a business owner myself," he tells her. For the first time since he opened the parlor, he's not trying to brag, he's just sharing information that maybe can help her. "If you ever need help with anything…"
"You own a business?" Alina interrupts him and Aleksander chuckles. Maybe this woman was the only one at the party that didn't know about his tattoos. It's a relief, but it's also exciting to share that part of him with her. It's been a while since people didn't already know who he was and his relationship with tattoos.
"I'm a tattoo artist, I have my own parlor." Her eyes immediately travel around his body, looking for any tattoos. She tries to be discreet about it, which is something he appreciates, especially because of the little pout she does once she doesn't find anything. He can't help but find her adorable. "Forgive me for what I am about to show you," he warns before he shows her the side of his middle finger, where Zoya tattooed a 'Fuck you' nine years ago.
Alina laughs, and this time she doesn't hide the beautiful sounds that come from her pretty lips. Aleksander smiles, not only because he made her laugh, but because she comes closer to take a look. He wanted to go back to the closeness they shared when they were in the bathroom, and his tattoo did the trick.
"Is that directed at someone specific?" she asks, and he shakes his head in response.
"Life is full of idiots, it is dedicated to all of them," he answers, making her laugh again. Aleksander is already making plans to continue making her laugh forever. He doesn't want to go another day without hearing that sound… or the other sounds she can make.
Alina hums in response. Her eyes are still on his tattoo, but he can feel how her gaze then shifts to his hand, and then slowly, she makes her way until she locks eyes with him. Her ears are tinted a lovely shade of pink, and she licks her lower lip before talking. Because of that, he has to make a conscious effort to listen to her, when in fact, all he wants to do is keep on looking at her lips.
"I'm assuming there might be more of them underneath that kefta, or am I wrong?" she asks, resting her hand on his left forearm, right on top of his shadows. Her tone of voice is deep and sultry, just like she sounded when she first addressed him. He doesn't show his surprise, much less how her words affect him, but he can feel his desire for her grow. Her words have an instant impact on him, and he feels like he's been struck by lightning.
Who is this perfect woman? Where did she come from? How can he make sure he keeps her in his life? Because there is no doubt that he wants her as a part of his life. He wants to take her home and show her what's underneath the costume. He wants to fuck her while she's wearing that beautiful headpiece. But he also wants her there in the morning when he wakes up. He thinks about how beautiful she will be in the morning light or sitting on his floor playing with Iris and Volcra.
"You are not wrong, solnishka," he says, and she smiles at the term. "This is the only one I can show you. We would not want to be indecent, wouldn't we?"
Alina giggles while she shakes her head. "I don't think we'd want that."
It's cute how the words she utters contradict her actions. He can clearly see how her eyes pause on his lips, how she steps closer to him. There is no such thing as personal space between them, she's almost completely against him, and he has to admit, he doesn't mind it. Not even a little.
The situation is so unlike him in so many ways. Aleksander has always enjoyed meeting new people, he likes dating, and he obviously enjoys having sex, but this is different. Of course, he's thinking about those things, but he has never, in thirty-five years of existence, thought about anyone in the way he's doing with Alina.
She might not be an actual Sun Summoner, but she must be something because she has bewitched him, body and soul. Was the original Sol Koroleva like this? Beautiful, enchanting, absolutely captivating? If so, he can understand how she defeated the Black Heretic. He's pretty sure what the myth fails to convey is that he fell to his knees and offered his life. There was just no other way.
He has never paid much attention to the myth. If anything, he tended to ignore it, as it was too much to bear resemblance to the Shadow Summoner. The last thing Aleksander wanted, being a realist as he considered himself, was for people to point out the resemblance. He lived in the real world, thank you very much, he did not like to waste his time with comparisons to a character that probably never even existed.
And yet, somehow, deep in his bones, he now knows there is something there, something he cannot explain despite how much he tries to. Alina and the bond they seemed to have formed is something he cannot explain but feels so much larger than life.
"You know, I don't have any tattoos. But I've thought about it, I would love nothing more than to have flowers marked on my skin." What comes out of her mouth is almost a whisper. They're so close to each other she doesn't need to raise her voice, he can hear her clearly. He can even feel her breath tickling his jaw.
Aleksander wonders if Luda will get mad at him if he decides to leave early just because he cannot contain himself.
"Well, it would be an honor to tattoo you," he says, and he means every word. He has no doubt her beautiful body would be even more beautiful with tattoos. Her skin was the perfect canvas, all she needed to do was say the word, and he would leave a mark on her skin. "I actually follow an Instagram account that posts the most beautiful arrangements."
He wasn't planning on it, but taking his phone out makes her come even closer to him. Their bodies are almost touching, and Aleksander is losing it. It's awful to be this close and not be able to do anything, especially when he could just grab her by the waist and take her to his flat. He doesn't, because he's not a brute, and he has something called decency, but the idea is tempting nonetheless.
"That's my Instagram account," Alina points out with a smile once he shows her the Instagram page. The name is Koroleva, and he started following a couple of weeks ago after Matthias told him he used it as a reference for an orchid tattoo a customer wanted.
"It is?" he questions. Aleksander is not going to lie, he's impressed by this turn of events. Ever since he started following the account, he has remained in awe of the flowers it displays. Sometimes the arrangements were simple, yet elegant, and striking; in other cases, they were bold and extravagant, but never tacky. The account was simply exquisite because it highlighted individual flowers as well.
"Yes." There's pride in that single word, there's also strength, and Aleksander can't help but smile at that. "Like I told you, I quit the flower shop I was working at… and this is what I've been doing. I had no clue you liked my account."
"It would be impossible not to like it. This is a wonderful account, Alina. You have an eye for beauty," he says, and once again she does it; she becomes the only source of light he knows.
Alina lights up as she hears his words. It's like she became a ray of sunlight. Like she was Grisha and decided that she was the one who decided when it got dark and when it didn't. His love of black was one thing, but as he looks at her face, at how she beams at him, he realizes something. Aleksander is suddenly obsessed with the sun and the beautiful girl that seemed to control it.
"Thank you. I'm proud of it, it's just that it's not what I would like it all to be, you know? I really want my own store…"
"Named Koroleva as well? I do sense a theme," he teases, and Alina nudges him before shaking her head. Even behind all the layers of clothing, he shivers under her touch.
"I know it's silly, but I really like it…"
He smiles at that. After all, it's a good thing she likes it, because he's planning on making her his queen.
"Ulla, Ulla!" Luda whisper-shouts to her girlfriend, who promptly excuses herself from a conversation and hugs her from behind, resting her chin on Luda's head. "Look at them, aren't they cute?"
Ulla doesn't need to ask who her girlfriend is referring to, her eyes find them immediately. Her brother and Alina, talking pleasantly to each other in a darkened corner of their living room. Neither she nor Luda can hear what they are talking about, but they can see how comfortable they seem around each other.
"Good," Ulla says before kissing her girlfriend's temple. Her brother deserved someone, and Alina seemed like a great person. "He's going to need a plus one for our wedding," she casually adds, before her girlfriend hugs her in excitement.
"Our wedding?" Luda teases with the brightest smile on her face. Ulla nods before kissing her softly.
"Please act surprised when I end up asking you," Ulla says, and Luda nods solemnly. The thought of marrying the woman she loves ends up distracting her from Aleksander and Alina, so she's unable to miss how her assistant ends up interrupting them.
Mal is currently flirting with Zoya, a raven-haired beauty who dressed up as a pirate for the party. He's hoping that by the end of the night he can take her home, where she will finally be able to show her the extent of her tattoos. However, he becomes a little distracted from their flirting once he sees Alina talking to a man. Even if he can only see his back, Mal immediately knows who he is, there's only one person Luda knows that wears that much black. He knows who he is and that he doesn't like him, so he decides to interrupt his conversation with Zoya and rescue Alina from Aleksander Morozov.
"Alina, can we talk for a second?" he asks once he's close enough to them. They seem so captured by their conversation that it takes a second for them to acknowledge his presence, which is something Mal doesn't appreciate.
Alina didn't hear Mal when he approached, and she turns to look at him a little surprised because he seems angry, and she doesn't know why. His face is contorted into the same expression he had when they had to fend off bullies at the orphanage. She doesn't know what got under his skin and while she doesn't want to stop talking to Aleksander, she decides to follow him.
"I'll be right back," Alina excuses herself before she follows Mal into the kitchen. When he stops walking and looks at her, he doesn't look too happy, which she still finds puzzling, so she cuts to the chase. "What's going on? Is everything alright?" She wonders if he's already drunk` and that's why he rudely interrupted their conversation.
"Really Alina? You're talking to the shadow man?" he asks, and Alina winces in response. Is that what he wants to ask her?
"You know him?" She asks, quite surprised by the turn of events.
"He's Ulla's older brother," Mal admits, and Alina can't quite believe him. She knew he had been hiding this information from her, and now she had confirmation. "He's also Luda's best friend; they met when she started college, and he was doing his master's."
"So you do know him! Why would you even try to hide that from me?" At that, Mal sighs and stops looking at her. His hand flies to his neck as he tries to explain himself. Truth is, he doesn't have an answer to Alina's question, he's not entirely sure why he doesn't like Aleksander.
They met early on, as the guy, more often than not, came by the research facility where he worked. Luda had introduced Aleksander as her best friend and future brother-in-law. Mal thought that if his boss had him in high esteem, then he would like him, but the truth was that Mal couldn't stand Aleksander. By all means, he was perfectly polite and respectful, it wasn't something he was actively doing, it was simply that Mal didn't like him and didn't trust him. Therefore, he hid the information from Alina, knowing his sister as well as he did; Mal could anticipate that she would like him, and he didn't want that.
Mal wanted them as far away from each other as it was humanly possible, and he had done a terrific job until this party.
"I don't know, Linka, I just don't like him. I don't trust him, you shouldn't either," he says and Alina frowns. Really? That's his pathetic excuse? What's that supposed to mean? "Look, I know I could've mentioned him, but I didn't think you'd ever meet him. I mean it when I say that I don't like him…"
"Mal, honestly, I don't care," she cuts him off, which obviously surprises him, because Alina was never like that, especially not with him, but this is pissing her off. "I really like him. We've been chatting for a while, and he seems great."
"Linka, you can't be serious right now," Mal exclaims before adding, "he's even dressed as your enemy!"
At that, she wants to laugh, because this is getting even more ridiculous by the second. First, he's hiding information, then he provides a crappy excuse, and now he's trying to use a costume as a reflection of someone else's personality.
"If that's all you wanted to say to me…" she starts to leave because she's actually eager to resume her conversation with Aleksander, but Mal grabs her by the bicep and effectively stops her.
"At least tell me you're not going home with him."
The nerve he has! How dare he say that to her? She has never complained about his multiple sexual partners, even when they are rude and disrespectful, and they make her feel awful even at their own apartment. Neither she nor Aleksander have said it explicitly, but she knows chances are she won't sleep in her bed tonight, and she's actually looking forward to it.
"Not that is any of your business, but I am. I don't care whatever excuse you decide to use right now. I am going with him," Alina says before leaving him in the middle of the kitchen, gaping like a fish out of water.
When Alina reenters the living room, she decides to take a second for herself. She doesn't want to find Aleksander while still reeling from her conversation with Mal, so she walks around the house to try to distract herself. That is why she ends up realizing all the clues about who Aleksander was are right there for her to see.
On one of the walls of the house, there are a bunch of pictures and Aleksander appears on several. There's one with Ulla when they are both still kids, they're covered in dirt, but they smile at the camera nonetheless. There's also one with him, Luda, and Ulla in front of a tattoo parlor, probably his own. The three of them look ecstatic, but Aleksander is practically beaming at the camera.
"That's when he opened the parlor, five years ago," Luda explains. Alina turns to look at her with a smile, she didn't hear her coming, but it doesn't matter, she welcomes the explanation nonetheless. "He's in our backyard if you're looking for him."
Alina is about to go there, but she stops herself and looks at Luda.
"Would you say he's a good person?"
"Sasha? He might be a grump and a little intimidating at times. And he has the Morozova trait, which means he can be stubborn and dramatic…" Luda laughs to herself, probably remembering different moments of their lives. "Look, Aleksander is many things, but he's the absolute best friend I could ever have. I know that if something happened to me, he would be there, no matter what. It's not even because I'm dating Ulla, it's because that's who he is."
Alina met Luda less than two hours ago, but her words are the ones she decides to take seriously. After all, she's the one who has known Aleksander for a longer time.
"I think I'm going to go outside," Alina says, and Luda gives her a playful wink before she crosses the threshold and joins him in the backyard.
Aleksander doesn't seem to register that he's no longer alone at the back of the house which is perfect because once again that allows her to look at him. This time, without worrying about being discreet, she can take a good look at him and his features. When she entered the bathroom his costume captured her whole attention, but now she can focus on his neatly trimmed beard, his luscious hair, and a jaw that could probably cut all the stems of her flowers easily.
He really is beautiful, which begs the question: why is he even paying attention to her? An orphan from Keramzin that didn't even last a semester in college. She had no degree, no career, she barely even had money. On the other hand, he seemed to be thriving, he had this expensive aura around him that it was impossible to ignore, and on top of that, he had a tattoo parlor to his name. What did she have again? Ah yes, an Instagram account.
She shivers, not only because of her self-deprecating thoughts but also because it's freezing out there. Alina regrets choosing a sleeveless model and buying such a flimsy fabric. It was beautiful, for sure, but not very practical. Although her finances appreciated the fabric choice, her body certainly didn't.
The chatter of her teeth must alert Aleksander of her presence because he turns to look at her. Although he smiles at her —like he's genuinely happy about seeing her!— he clearly takes in her state and approaches her, with worry written all over her features.
"Here, have my kefta," he offers and Alina shakes his head. Of course, she's not going to take anything from him, that will absolutely fuck her up. "You just met me, solnishka, so maybe it is for the best that I inform you that I do not tend to take no for an answer." She has no trouble believing that. In fact, she doubts anyone says no to him. Who would dare? He's gorgeous and even if that wasn't the case his voice was completely compelling.
Alina dares anyway because sometimes she doesn't like playing by the rules.
"You're going to freeze. I'm going to be fine." A blatant lie, something he must know because he narrows his gaze before promptly ignoring her. Aleksander removes his kefta and opens it for her.
"May I?" he asks, and she knows she can't say no, so she nods and turns around to let him put the kefta on her.
She's been calling it a kefta despite knowing it's a costume, but when the fabric surrounds her she thinks he might've stolen an original piece from the National Gallery. It's cozy and soft, just like it looked like, but a hundred times better because it smells like him. Whiskey and expensive cologne.
"Thank you," she says with a smile, trying and failing not to blush. The garment is too big on her, she's practically swimming in it. She's sure that if she used the sleeves, her hand wouldn't come out the other end. But still, it smells like Aleksander, it feels like a hug, and it does help with the cold. "I didn't know you were Ulla's brother," she comments while remembering her conversation with Mal.
"I did not know you were Mal's sister," he counters with a playful smile on his lips. "But yes, I am Ulla's brother. We are half-siblings, actually, but my love for her is not half measured."
Alina understands that because even if Mal is acting like an absolute moron right now, she loves him. He's the only family she has, after all. "I know about that. Growing up, Mal was all I had," she comments and to her surprise, Aleksander nods.
"Luda mentioned that Mal grew up in an orphanage, I cannot imagine how hard that must have been. I am very sorry you had to go through that." Aleksander sounds very honest when he says that. She thinks she can actually see some sadness in his dark eyes. He didn't seem to be saying something just for the sake of saying it, which was something she appreciated. It seemed like every time someone found out she was an orphan, they immediately decided to equate her to a poor, hopeless thing. Aleksander didn't, he wasn't pitying her.
She decides to tell him exactly that. "Thank you. You have no idea how many people find out and start looking at me as if I was this thing as if I was no longer a person but instead a canvas where they project all their pity and charity. Growing up in the system sucked, but I swear it's better than the looks people give us."
Aleksander laughs at her, and she swears her heart does a cartwheel. What a beautiful sound that is.
"I might not know you very well, Alina, but I would not pity you and I certainly do not see you as a charity case. I see a strong woman with desires and ambitions. I think you are a very remarkable person," he comments, leaving her speechless. Less than ten minutes ago she wondered why he was focusing on her and while she might not have the specific answer, he has just shed some light on his reasons.
"You just said it yourself, we just met. You can't possibly know if I'm remarkable," she points out, and Aleksander lets out a chuckle. He finds her amusing, that much she knows.
"I tend to be very good at assessing someone's character," he replies, before adding, "I also can tell you are still freezing, despite my kefta. Would you mind giving me your hands?"
Alina has been trying to conceal that she's still freezing, so when he asks about her hands, she just extends her arms, barely thinking about what he's going to do. To say that she's completely taken by surprise when Aleksander takes her hands in his is an understatement. They've been dancing around a line ever since they met. They have barely touched each other, instead, they have been orbiting each other. The kiss she pressed to his cheek was as far as they've gotten and she felt like she was on fire.
Now that they are actually touching, she thinks nothing compares to this moment.
His hands are bigger than hers, so much so that he easily can grab hers and hold them. He's gentle and careful with his movements, holding her almost reverently. Not as if she was a porcelain doll, but instead something he holds in high regard, something he takes care of because he wants to, not because he has to.
"My mother used to do this with us when we were young," Aleksander explains before he uses his breath to try to keep her warm. He himself must be cold, but he's focusing on her and in turn, she's focusing on how his hands feel against her own.
His fingers are long and elegant. They look like they're taken care of, and he must do that, she thinks, because his hands are where his livelihood depends. Alina wonders if that's where he learned to be gentle with his movements. His hands, even if they are elegant, are also big and rough. They are full of calluses, but also, they are soft. His hands can break, can destroy, and yet, there he is; he's surrounded by darkness but lightning up the backyard.
"Ironic, is it not? That the Sun Summoner gets cold?" he jokes, and Alina thinks that maybe she had someone to keep her warm. But she doesn't point that out, instead, she decides to say something else.
"Do you believe in destiny, Aleksander?" What a silly question she's asking him. It's ridiculous. He seems like someone who's firmly standing on reality, not someone who believes in soulmates and destiny. She can't help it, she's always been a dreamer. She dreamt her parents one day would appear, and she would leave the orphanage. She dreamt she would be adopted. Alina dreamt about opening her own store… sometimes it felt like all she did was dream.
But this wasn't a dream, wasn't it?
"You know, if you had asked me this morning, my answer to that question would have been crystal clear. I am a planner and a doer, I live in reality; but…" And there it is. In his silence, there's an admission, one that matches what she's feeling, what she's thinking. "I am not in the habit of losing my words or not knowing what to say and yet, I know something is going on, and I cannot explain it."
She smiles, not only at his admission or at the way his thumbs rub circles around her skin. No. Alina smiles because when she looks into his eyes they are dark, yes, but they also twinkle; as if the darkness now had specks of gold. As if…
"I can't explain it either," she whispers, stepping even closer to him.
Her eyes don't leave his, neither of them blink, they just stare at each other. She's still completely mesmerized by how beautiful he is, and she can see it in his eyes, how taken he is by her. Alina might not be as good as he is at reading other people, but here it's almost impossible not to know that he is quite taken by her.
That's why she closes the gap and kisses him.
It's tentative at first, he has been so polite and respectful with her… Maybe she shouldn't have done this, she should have asked. But she felt emboldened by his admission. The knowledge that this wasn't something that she was deluding herself into thinking made her act. She wanted to kiss him, she wanted to taste his lips, to find out if, just like his hands, they were surprisingly soft.
Alina finds out that he is soft, but also that he's passionate and that he's clearly been restraining himself. He kisses her like he needs her to breathe
But there's something more because when their lips meet, Alina feels like she knows him already like he was familiar. It feels like this was not their first time doing this, even if it was. Even if he had never been kissed like this, fully, like it's the most important thing in the world.
His hands leave hers before he starts to cup her face. By all means, he's still gentle, but there's heat behind his actions, and she knows it. Aleksander parts her lips and slides his tongue in her mouth, soft is no longer a word she associates with the kiss. He's hungry, he's passionate, and he wants to feast on her. Alina lets him, of course. She doesn't think she'd be able to do anything else than to reciprocate than to bask in how this magnificent man seems to not have enough of her.
Both of them ignore that they have kissed lifetimes ago. That this is not the first time they've been pushed together by destiny. They ignore that this isn't the first time they have danced around each other. Light and darkness have known each other since the beginning of the world. Sankta Alina of the Fold and the Starless One have always existed. They have always tried to balance each other, they have never succeeded. They have always paid the price and tasted the ashes of their failure.
She has killed him so many times… Alina doesn't know why, but she presses a hand to his chest, on top of his heart. She thinks she's just in the moment, but her gesture is the result of years and years of driving a knife through his heart. A heart that only existed because of her.
His hand tangles in her hair. Always white, always as pure as snow. A symbol of merzost that has endured years and centuries. Aleksander doesn't know that he has done this an infinite amount of times, that they have betrayed each other endlessly. Neither of them knows that this is the time everything changes.
They break the kiss when the need for air becomes impossible to ignore and yet, they remain so close they share the same air. Aleksander's eyes don't leave her as he rests his forehead against hers. He doesn't even blink when Alina rubs her nose against his. They just look at each other, still reeling from the kiss, still trying to understand what it means.
"I have your face in the making at the heart of the world..." Alina starts to say, still breathless. She doesn't know what compels her to say those words, but she speaks with unwavering confidence, knowing it's the right thing to do.
"And there is no one more beloved, brave and unbreakable." Aleksander finishes, and their words sound like a sentence, like both of them have invoked an ancient power that has now bonded them together.
They have known each other for years. They have seen each other's face in kings and queens, in enemies and adversaries, in martyrs the history no longer remembers. They have loved each other from afar, they have destroyed each other countless times. This story is anything but new and yet…
In the year 2021, Alina and Aleksander meet each other again. In a costume party of all places. She's dressed as her first life, he's dressed as his own. This is the life where they get things right. This is the lifetime where they get to be happy.