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Chapter 2

Author's note: Thanks for sticking with me. Time to diverge from the storyline of the series...

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Mal had found Alina after a short, panicked half hour searching the grounds of the palace. She'd been headed towards a carriage when he'd grabbed her, clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her yelp of surprise, and spun her to face him. Her expression had been an almost comical mix of confusion and relief.

"Don't make a sound-!" he hissed, not bothering to pause for a hug, greeting, or any additional explanation. He'd yanked her across the courtyard, and onto the back of a horse, which they rode through most of the night. He'd ignored every one of her questions until she'd finally taken the hint and fell silent.

As the first rays of dawn broke on the outskirts of a small farming town, they had released their borrowed horse into a pasture with food and water and other animals.

Leaving Alina tucked under a wooden deck that jutted out from the backside of a building, Mal had dared to duck into a small shop that was just opening for the day to get supplies. He returned with two bags slung over one of his shoulders, neither of which he offered to Alina.

Mal smuggled them onto the back of a massive wagon of hay continuing in the right direction, and they'd curled quietly between the bales for so many hours that Alina thought her legs would never be able to straighten again.

They didn't talk, but every few hours Mal would carefully push a canteen of water or some dry food in Alina's direction.

When the wagon pulled to a stop, hours after dark, Mal roused Alina with a soft hand on her shoulder. He motioned for her to follow him, and they slipped silently off the wagon and away into the nearby trees. After several hundred meters into the darkness, Alina created a small light.

"No-" Mal said quickly, spinning to face her. "We can't risk being seen-"

"But-"

"No." He replied so firmly that Alina did not bring the subject up again.

Alina was having difficulty putting one foot in front of the other by the time Mal finally spoke again.

"We're here," Mal said, not turning around. He'd stayed several paces ahead of Alina for the last few hours, and she'd been watching as his shoulders hunched higher with each passing mile.

"Where's 'here'?" Alina asked, pushing an errant strand of dark hair back from her face. At this point, she was unable to make out any shapes in the blackness beyond the next few dozen feet.

"This is the best we can hope for, I think. Our home for the night." Mal turned to look at Alina, and saw the weariness of her steps. "We'll find more horses tomorrow," he added. "We don't have to walk the whole way."

Alina was about to offer a small amount of light to illuminate something when Mal continued, "This way," starting off to the left. Alina followed silently. He seemed to know where he was going, and was sure-footed enough that she trusted his senses even without her new Grisha power. After a few steps she was just able to make out the dark shadow of an old structure in front of her. Mal had brought them up behind a large stand of trees, which had obscured the shape before.

"How did you know this was here?" Alina asked.

"We passed over a set of wagon ruts a while back. They pointed straight here, but I took us in a loop to make sure no one was around. The recent animal tracks also don't avoid it, so we can be fairly sure no one has lived here in some time."

There was a decent deadbolt on the door, and all the windows were boarded shut. Once they were inside, Mal agreed to a small ball of light.

"Come with me-I want to check the rest of the house," he said, beckoning Alina to follow him.

With a sigh and an exhausted expression, she eased down onto an overturned crate on the floor. "Here," Alina said, moving her hand slowly toward Mal and ushering the small shine in his direction. "It'll follow you."

Mal made his way through the rest of the house, of which there was very little, before returning to where Alina had waited for him in the dark front room.

Mal, having been alert and tense all day, finally came to a stop, several paces in front of Alina. The light that had been tracking him moved to settle in the air between them, hovering slightly. Mal set the bags he'd been carrying down on a small wooden table and let himself actually look at his companion. She stared back at him, her face tired.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice low and serious.

"I feel like I just got thrown from a running horse. Everything that happened in the last few weeks has seemed...sped up, somehow. And now..." Alina shrugged, gesturing around them. "Now we're just...here. I don't know what to do next. I feel like I still have this...momentum...and there's nowhere for me to use it."

Mal nodded his understanding. "I bought a few extra things in the town we stopped in this morning." He paused, and tilted his head, his eyes roaming over her face as if he were memorizing the shapes. "We're going to have to change your hair," he said cautiously, wondering how strenuously she was going to object. "Do you want to do that now, or in the morning?"

Alina sighed. Of course she'd need to alter her appearance. Too many people knew what the Sun Summoner looked like now. It was a pity they didn't have Genya with them. "So… how do we do this?" she asked.

Mal pulled a small bottle from one of the bags and shook it. "I was promised this would smell foul, but would lighten your hair to as close to blonde as possible. The woman who sold it to me talked me through the process. Seems simple enough."

Alina looked from Mal to the bottle with skepticism.

"It's either that, or you shave all yours off and we have matching haircuts," Mal offered as an alternative.

Alina gave a small huff of a laugh and rewarded Mal with a gentle smile. "Fine. Though I don't think a different hair color will hide my eyes. But let's go try your bottle experiment."

Mal nodded, her sweet smile making his chest tighten uncomfortably. He turned down the short hallway to a small space in the back he'd found with a slightly rusted metal tub and some porcelain basins, one of which looked like it would still hold water.

When he turned back toward Alina, she was standing in the doorway closer behind him than he'd expected. She'd already stripped off her coat and tunic to reveal the basic thin sheath underneath. He clutched at the bottle in his hand, swallowed thickly, and dropped his eyes to the ground. "I- I'll give you some privacy," he mumbled, moving sideways to allow her to move farther into the room around him.

"You're the one with the directions, remember?" Alina said, tipping her head to the side. "How am I supposed to do this without you?"

Mal's heart was pounding so hard he thought she would surely hear it as she stepped even closer to him in the cramped room and sank to her knees in front of him, next to the rusted tub.

Mal nodded, and stepped back, putting as much distance between them as was possible. He uncorked the bottle and grimaced as a harsh smell invaded the room.

Alina raised an eyebrow. "That awful stuff goes on my hair?"

Mal gave an apologetic sigh, much less confident in his plan than he'd been when he bought the bottle. "We have to leave it on for a while, but it does get rinsed off eventually."

"Please tell me you have a plan for getting water out here? I don't want to run through our entire drinking supply washing a foul smell from my hair."

"Mmm. We passed a well on our way in. It's just out back. While this sits, I'll get the water."

Alina looked up at Mal as he moved hesitantly to perch on the edge of the tub next to her. They held each other's gaze for a long moment, her eyes searching his for something he managed to keep hidden. One of his hands reached out, slowly, and threaded gently through her hair. Alina stilled after an instant, but Mal still caught the barely perceptible turn as she leaned into the touch. A year ago that movement would have given him wings, but today it caused nothing but a thick, longing ache in his chest.

Without speaking, Mal increased the pressure of his hand in her hair, urging her to lean forward, bending her upper body over the lip of the tub. As she moved, her eyes finally—reluctantly—moved away from his.

Once he'd applied the mixture to the hair at the back of her head, she stood, pushing up from the tub. He assumed she would take the bottle from him, since she was able to reach the front of her hair to do the rest herself. Instead, she climbed gingerly into the tub and sat down, her knees drawn up in front of her. She looked up at Mal expectantly, and explained simply, "My legs were starting to hurt from kneeling on the wood."

Nodding, Mal motioned for her to scoot closer to him, which she did, and he finished applying the mixture to the rest of her hair. As he worked the dye through the length of her hair, she closed her eyes, and he couldn't help but notice how evenly her breaths came, causing her chest to rise and fall in a perfect, blissful rhythm.

Still perched on the edge of the bathtub, Mal had twisted so he was almost facing Alina, and he threaded his fingers slowly through her hair on either side of her head, working his way gently toward the base of her neck, until he almost had her head cupped in his hands, her face turned up toward his.

"How long before I get to wash this off?" Her eyes still closed, Alina's voice broke the quiet, and Mal's hands stilled.

"Fifteen minutes. My old pocket watch hasn't died on me yet-I'll keep track," he assured her.

Alina pulled back from his grasp, and he lifted his hands reluctantly. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "You don't have to stay in here. There's not much ventilation, and I know the smell is strong." She glanced toward the door. "You can take the light. I don't need it." She looked down at her hands, folded around her drawn-up knees. "Just let me know when I get to rinse."

After a moment's hesitation-he didn't feel right leaving her alone yet, even in this remote location-Mal stood, checked that the hovering brightness would follow him again, and walked back toward the front of the house, leaving Alina in near total darkness.

Alina listened to the slight creak and thump of Mal leaving through the front door of the cabin, and the almost imperceptible crunch of his footfalls that faded as he walked away towards the well outside. After a short time the front door clunked open and closed, and Alina heard the dead bolt locking again. Mal spent another moment in the front room, rustling through their bags before he reappeared in the doorway to the bathroom, a brown bottle under one arm, a canteen under the other, and heavy buckets of water in each hand. He set the buckets down, water sloshing gently within them, and slowly lowered himself to sit on the floor next to the tub. He held up the canteen and the bottle, offering them to Alina.

"Water? Or do you want something stronger?" he asked.

She opted for the 'stronger' liquid.

As she unscrewed the lid and took a mouthful of the alcohol, Mal asked, "So… were you and Kirigan…?"

Alina quickly tilted her head back up and pulled the bottle away from her lips, surprised. She looked at Mal and swallowed. While he waited for a reply, he took the bottle from her. Once he'd had a mouthful himself, he carefully placed the bottle, uncapped, on the floor of the tub in front of Alina's feet, the glass making a noise against the metal that was louder than seemed correct in the small room.

"I… saw you with him," he admitted, attempting to keep emotion out of his voice. "When I got to the palace, I searched for you, and… I saw you two together."

Alina said nothing, her eyes still trained on Mal's face in the dim light.

"Was that why?" he persisted gently. "Why you didn't respond to any of my letters?"

Alina's expression faltered slightly, the look in her eyes slipping, her eyebrows knitting closer together as she pressed her lips into a thin line. "You wrote to me?"

Mal gave a half-hearted roll of his eyes and looked down to pick at one of his fingernails. "Yeah… you could say I wrote you a letter or two."

"And you got none of mine?" Alina asked.

Mal looked back up quickly. "No. No, I didn't."

Alina nodded, holding Mal's gaze. "I didn't know you weren't getting my letters, and I didn't know you'd sent anything to me. I didn't know I was a captive until last night, and as soon as I learned… I fled." She paused, and sighed. "Thank you for finding me, Mal," she said earnestly, reaching out to place a hand on his forearm. "Thank you for being there exactly when I needed you."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner," Mal said, his voice tightening. He reached for the scotch again. "I… I had started to think maybe you were happy with your new life." He took a swig and replaced the bottle at her feet again before looking back to her face. "It's just… you didn't look like a captive."

The suggestion hung between them.

Mal took a deep breath and propped his arm up on the side of the tub. "You slept with him?" he asked, his tone rhetorical.

Alina said nothing, but the look on her face darkened at the assumption. She watched the light play off the muscle in Mal's jaw as he clenched his teeth.

"I would have told you that wasn't a smart move," Mal continued, looking at the bottle of alcohol again but not reaching for it.

"I didn't say I slept with him." Alina corrected him sharply.

"-but I suppose you get to make your own choices—"

"Rarely," Alina mumbled darkly.

"—I was just under the impression that you might-" Mal's voice trailed off abruptly, his focus back on her.

Frustration boiled up in Alina and broke out in a rueful smile. She shook her head in amazement. "This is why you've been so quiet," she reasoned.

Mal held very still, and said nothing. Alina frowned suddenly and tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at him. She wished she could see his face more clearly, because backlit as he was by the ball of light, his expression almost looked like—

Alina inhaled and opened her mouth to speak, but held her breath, suddenly unwilling to voice her guess out loud. After another ten seconds of silence, however, she gave in. "You. You're not disappointed in me because you saw me with Aleksander. You're disappointed because it wasn't you."

Mal remained motionless, holding Alina's gaze steadily for a long moment before breaking his silence. "No," he answered gravely. "While I can't say I'm not disappointed that—" He broke off, his jaw working ineffectually, and restarted. "I understand… that it can't be me," he finished, choosing his words carefully.

"What does that mean, 'it can't be you'?" Alina asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mal shook his head. "I don't plan on ever having a relationship with you."

Alina's face blanched briefly. "Wow." She gave a harsh laugh that seemed to echo off the dusty walls as she pulled the alcohol from Mal's hand and took another drink. "This is great. From admonishment to rejection just like that-" She snapped her fingers with a crack. "Might be a new record for me." She went to take another drink, but Mal caught the bottle and twisted it sharply from her hands. She glared at him as he placed the bottle down next to him on the floor. His hand immediately reappeared, and presented her with the canteen of water.

Alina let out a frustrated breath, and looked for a moment like she was going to protest, but as Mal watched, her shoulders sagged, and the tension seemed to leave her body as if she'd given up on the idea of fighting anymore. Her face relaxed into an expression of despondency, and she accepted the water offered to her. She didn't open it, but held it lightly, balanced on one knee.

"This rejection has nothing to do with how I feel about you, Alina."

Alina looked back up sharply.

Mal sighed, wondering if keeping anything from her at this point was worth it. He was exhausted, and her knowing wouldn't change his plans or expectations anyway. "It's not about denying you something. And it's not about denying myself something I want, either. I know how important you are—to all of Ravka—" Mal stopped abruptly, running his tongue absently across his teeth.

Alina took a deep breath and tilted her head to one side, frowning. "I'm something you...want?" she asked quietly.

"Yes." Mal's voice was tighter than before.

"And...just for the sake of argument…you're denying yourself this because...?"

"Because that's not... something I'm allowed to have," Mal explained, his words coming slowly.

"'Allowed'?" Alina asked, confused. "Who's not allowing you?"

"It doesn't matter," he said, looking her in the eye. When Alina's confusion deepened the crease between her brows, he sighed and went on, "I've been given… instructions. I need to get you to a certain-" He paused and restarted. "None of this will work if we-if you and I are-" Mal looked earnestly at Alina, as if willing her to understand the meaning in his partial sentences.

"Who gave you these instructions, Mal?" Alina asked, corralling all her remaining patience to keep from raising her voice. Aggression wasn't going to get her anywhere.

Mal let out a breath and wiped a hand over his face. "This was never supposed to happen to you." He shook his head, and dropped his eyes to the floor in front of himself.

"Who-?"

"It doesn't matter," Mal interrupted with finality.

Silence reigned for several long minutes until he felt fingers ghosting over the back of his hand and encircling his wrist, her fingertips pressed in at his pulse point. He looked up at her, but as she tugged his hand toward her, he realized she was looking at the pocket watch he had gripped in his fist. He sighed. "Time to rinse," he agreed.

She stepped from the tub, joining him on the floor. "Hand me the bucket?" she asked. She brought their light toward them, and stretched her hands over the container of water. The light glowed brighter, and more orange for a moment before Alina relaxed and dropped her hands. "This will be a lot more comfortable with warm water," she explained with a small smile, but the uncomplicated comment did nothing to dissolve the tension that still beat between them, and Alina still felt the sting of his unwillingness to come clean about his mysterious instructions.

She leaned over the edge of the tub, and Mal picked up the bucket. Alina tilted her head to one side and closed her eyes against the splash as warm water ran over her hair and down her neck. As he rinsed her hair, she felt Mal change position to stand over her, his shoes coming to rest on either side of her knees, the inside of his legs pressing against the back of her hips. With her eyes closed, she felt one of his hands smooth over her head again, working his fingers through her hair, somewhat more roughly than she would have anticipated. Finally, the hand in her hair let up, and the water ran out. She felt the loss of pressure from his legs as he stepped back from her, and she raised her hands to wipe the water from her eyes. When she turned to blink up at Mal, he held out his scarf to dry her face, and offered her a hand to help her stand.

He pulled her to her feet, and she found herself once again standing incredibly close to him. She held the scarf limply at her side, her wet hair dripping unhindered down her neck and back.

She leaned in slowly, her breath on his skin as she hovered, withholding contact for another moment as if giving him ample time to refuse her and back away. His back was to the door, and she wasn't blocking his exit in any way.

Mal didn't move.

Alina leaned in and ghosted her lips along the corner of his mouth before withdrawing slightly. When he didn't react, she repeated herself, letting her lips linger slightly the second time before she backed away again.

Mal lifted both hands and threaded his fingers again through Alina's wet hair, drawing her back towards him, but stopped her from closing the total distance at the last second. She watched his face contort, blurred by the dim light and proximity.

"While I can safely say there isn't a single thing in the entire world that I want more right now..." Mal's whisper trailed off. She was so close. "And please don't take this as an indictment of your choices...or character..." He pushed away from Alina. He allowed himself a moment to run one hand through her hair again, but pulled back as he remembered Kirigan's hand performing the motion in his war room.

"...but it doesn't matter what you might be willing to—" He couldn't even string a whole sentence together. He was turning her down. He couldn't fathom a universe in which he turned her down. "I'm going to need more than 48 hours between Kirigan…" He took another step back. "…and me."

Mal thought this must be what it feels like to stab oneself in the gut.

Alina wasn't sure if he could see her flush in the feeble glow of the hovering sphere of light as he backed out into the hallway, but she figured if he could, the embarrassment was well-deserved on her part.

Mal swallowed thickly and took a deep breath. "Take as much time as you need," he said, gesturing to the light. He looked back up at Alina, now backlit, and was grateful he couldn't see the details of her face. "I'll wait in the front room."

"Mal—" Alina motioned for the glow to follow him.

"Keep it in there with you," Mal interrupted her quickly. He took another step backward, obscuring him more from view before he turned and disappeared completely.

From somewhere in the blackness beyond the door frame, Alina heard his voice, farther away, but still clear and determined. "I'm fine in the dark right now."

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