Disclaimer: I don't own the Grisha Trilogy and its characters – it belongs to Leigh Bardugo. I do not own the Shadow & Bone TV series, which was developed by Eric Heisserer for Netflix and based on Leigh Bardugo's books. Any recognisable dialogue is from the books or TV show – some lines may be included verbatim, others in an amended form.
Inconvenient Feelings
Once she had practiced making herself glow without moving her hands, Alina moved on to trying to direct a beam of light while keeping her hands still.
It wasn't easy. Not at all.
She found her fingers twitching, her hands curving into the usual movements almost without her thinking.
Still, she persevered.
Whenever she got tired or irritated, she reminded herself of Nina, and how the Heartrender had almost ended up at the bottom of the ocean. She thought of the countless Grisha who had been murdered or tortured because they had been unable to fight back.
Alina didn't want to be helpless.
"Let me," he murmured against her throat.
His heel hooked around her leg, bringing her closer as her hands traced the hard muscle of his chest.
His lips peppered her jawline with kisses as he slid one hand under her nightgown
"Let me," he repeated.
Alina woke with a start, damp and sweaty and breathless.
The dream was vivid in her mind and she knew there was no way she'd be able to forget it.
The image was there now, the culmination of having known ever since she entered the Little Palace how handsome the Darkling was, the way he had recently begun to treat her more like an equal, and how much she had enjoyed the brief touch of his fingers on her neck as he fastened the pendant he had gifted her with.
If it was just a childish crush then she wouldn't be concerned. Most of the students in the Little Palace, female and male alike, went through a phase of blushing around the Darkling at some point during their teen years.
This was different, though.
As a child the Darkling had been a distant figure to Alina. She saw him more than most of the students, but his regular absences at the north and south fronts, or at one of the other military camps, meant she spent relatively little time with him. She hadn't really been in awe of him the way other Grisha were, but nor had she known his temperament and preferences and opinions in the way his closest aides did.
She'd seen him more in the past few years, and especially since she had gained her amplifier, but their focus had been mostly on developing her power.
Now, however, it seemed like something had changed, almost without her realising it.
Alina wanted, in a way she never had before.
She remembered Arne Erikson. There had been nothing at all objectionable about him, but she had never felt any spark or connection. A brush of the Darkling's fingertips against her skin had warmed her cheeks far more than Arne's kiss ever had.
There was a rightness about the Darkling's touch that she'd never experienced with anyone else.
Two sides of the same coin, that was what he always said.
"You are meant to be my balance, Alina. You are the only person in the world who might rule with me, my true equal."
She hadn't really thought about it at the time, had just assumed he was talking about a working partnership. After all, she'd been learning all about politics and governance of the Second Army, joking with Genya that the Darkling just wanted someone to help him with his paperwork (thinking about it, Genya had given her an odd look when she made the joke) and boring herself silly with books on taxation and agriculture.
Still, she couldn't quite believe it could be anything else.
Saints, she didn't even know his name, only the title that put fear into the hearts of enemies and allies alike.
He was ancient, with a control over his power that she often envied. He oversaw the entire Second Army, walked an always fine line with the royal family and, knowing him, probably also did a great deal of the governance that should have been the King's duty. What in the name of the saints could he see in her?
It would pass, this inconvenient feeling.
Hopefully.
He was too close.
The dream was still messing with her head, even though it had been almost three weeks.
With a temporary ceasefire, the Darkling remained in the Little Palace and would do so for the foreseeable future unless something changed on one of the fronts.
While she was pleased by the reduction in hostilities, the increased training sessions with the Darkling were playing havoc with her heart and her head.
She noticed it all – every time he touched her hands to correct her movements, the occasions when he placed a palm on her back to steer her in a certain direction, the gentle squeeze on her shoulder when he entered the War Room or his personal library to find her reading in an armchair.
It was driving her insane.
The Darkling couldn't know how she felt.
She thought. She hoped.
At least he didn't appear to be acting any differently, or to have noticed anything unusual.
She was being very careful not to let on that she'd suddenly realised she was hugely attracted to him. While she knew the Darkling couldn't actually read minds, he often did a very good impression of it, and the last thing she wanted was for him to realise exactly what she had been dreaming about.
Saints, that would be so humiliating.
Sometimes, for brief moments, she thought that maybe her feelings weren't as unrequited as she believed them to be.
A rare smile, a lingering hand on her arm, a soft look when he watched her practice with her light.
Once or twice, she wondered if she should just ask him, if she should take a chance and leap into the unknown.
But she hadn't found the courage for that yet. She didn't want to risk seeing a cold shuttered look directed at her.
Maybe she was a coward, but she was worried about what might change if the Darkling rejected her, and even more terrified of what might happen if he didn't.
"What are you two doing?"
"Ahh" Alina and Fedyor both jumped in surprise and then fell backwards onto the grass.
Urgh, it was a good thing her kefta was mostly black and would hide the grass stains. The inevitable bruise on her backside, however, would just have to be endured, because there was no way she was going to ask Genya or a Healer to look at it.
"I said," Ivan began, only to have Alina reach up, grab his arm and yank him down.
"Shh," she hissed.
Ivan pulled away, face contorting in irritation, "why you little –"
"Relax, moyu lyubov," Fedyor ran his hand up and down Ivan's arm in a soothing manner, "we're just trying not to disturb them."
"Disturb who?" Ivan asked shortly.
Fedyor tilted his head to the side to indicate the scene occurring in a nearby clearing. Genya and David were holding hands and he was saying something that was making the Tailor blush fiercely.
Alina and Fedyor sighed happily as they watched their friends together. Ivan just grimaced.
"Don't be such a grump," Alina admonished him, "they're adorable together."
Ivan snorted, "Kostyk can barely say two words to her."
"I remember someone else who was like that," Fedyor said knowingly, "once upon a time."
Alina was shocked to see Ivan briefly flush pink and then grit his teeth, "I don't know what you mean."
"Sure," Fedyor responded, "of course you don't."
Alina frantically covered her mouth to hide her giggles, knowing Ivan would be furious if he saw.
Fedyor sent her a wink over Ivan's head and she made a mental note to interrogate him later about the beginnings of his relationship with Ivan.
It was gossip far too tempting to ignore.
She could concentrate light in her hands now, with almost no movement at all.
It wasn't the burning, blinding light she could normally produce, but it was almost hot enough to scorch and that was a start.
Small steps, little victories, that was what she was aiming for. She'd learnt over the years that she couldn't always expect big leaps with her powers, even now she had an amplifier.
What she really wanted was to be able to call the light and direct it without moving her hands but it was proving difficult.
To be honest, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to really direct the light without using her hands, but if she could call enough light to overwhelm any captors then that would be a useful skill to have. After all, if they couldn't get close to her without being burned alive and couldn't see her without being blinded then it would be at lot harder for them to hurt or kill her.
She knew her friends were getting a bit suspicious of how much time she was spending alone in her room, but she didn't want to tell them about her little project just yet.
The Darkling, she thought, knew she was working on something, but he didn't pry and she was grateful for that, glad he trusted her enough to let her tell him when she was ready.
If she was ever ready. If she ever had something to show for herself other than glowing hands.
She just had to keep practicing.
The stormy sea, waves crashing against a ship, glittering scales, a massive roar.
An amplifier calling to her.
Alina woke slowly, the image of the sea whip seared across her brain.
She wished she knew whether these dreams were just the product of her recent thoughts on the sea whip, or something more.
Her wrist itched. She felt an ache inside her for the second of Morozova's amplifiers.
It wasn't like her previous dream, where she could roll over and go back to sleep. The itch persisted, distracting her enough that she knew she needed to get up and find a way to distract herself.
She put some slippers on and pulled a robe over her nightgown.
When she opened her door, Tomek, Viktor and Igor immediately turned to look at her, eyeing her carefully to assess if there was anything wrong.
She had planned to go to the library, but her gaze turned instead to the other end of the corridor, where the War Room was.
"I couldn't sleep," she told her oprichniki, "is the Darkling still up?"
Tomek nodded, inclining his head as a sign that she was free to go to the War Room.
The three of them followed her the short distance down the corridor, nodding to the other oprichniki who were standing guard.
Alina knocked lightly on the door, pushing it open when she heard the Darkling say "come in."
He looked up when she entered and seemed momentarily surprised by her presence, "Alina?"
"Am I disturbing you?" she asked, trying not to take notice of the fact that he was only wearing long black trousers and a loose robe.
He shook his head, "not at all. Can't sleep?"
"Dreams," she explained, "I keep seeing the sea whip and my wrist itches, like it's missing something."
"Hmm," he murmured, "well, there is much we do not know about Morozova's amplifiers. It is entirely possible that the sea whip is calling to you and we shouldn't ignore that."
"But no one has ever had more than one amplifier," she said.
"Morozova's amplifiers were designed to be used together," the Darkling reminded her, certainty in his voice, "and you are no ordinary Grisha, Alina."
"Will you send trackers to find it?" she asked.
She wasn't sure how that would work. It had been easy for the trackers to transport Morozova's Stag, once they found it but, while reports about the sea whip varied, all were agreed that it was a huge creature and she didn't think it could be safely transported all the way to Os Alta.
He shook his head, "we will go to the True Sea ourselves, with a group of trackers. Remember, Alina, that the sea whip might not be like the stag – you may have to kill it to gain the amplifier."
"I know," she said sadly, "it just seems like such a shame. It's supposed to be a magnificent creature."
"Sometimes sacrifices have to be made," he told her solemnly, "Ravka is faltering, Alina, and it needs strength from its leadership."
It was certainly one of his less subtle references to the coup that she knew moved ever closer.
After all, the Lantsovs could not keep the throne, not without running the country even further into the ground.
"And will we ever destroy the Fold?" she asked him.
"The age of Grisha power is coming to an end," the Darkling said, "once, one Grisha might have been worth fifty soldiers. Then forty, then thirty. Now it might be ten or twenty. Shu Han and Fjerda are both developing weapons that even Grisha struggle against. And, one day, Grisha and otkazat'sya soldiers will be equally as powerless."
He let out a tired sigh and rubbed one hand across his face, "they say Shu Han and Fjerda are both trying to develop weapons that could cause catastrophic levels of destruction. The Fold is our bargaining chip, a threat to prevent our enemies attempting to blot us all out of existence."
It was a threat that seemed to be working, at least for the time being. Alina worried, though, about the weapons being developed by their neighbours, advances that Ravka (debt-ridden and ruled by an incompetent King) just couldn't match, even with Grisha assistance.
She was about to ask another question, only to let out a loud yawn instead.
"Sorry," she mumbled, feeling embarrassed that she must look like a child who had stayed up too late.
"Sit down, Alina," he told her, "you must be exhausted."
She took the offered seat, burrowing against the cushions on the divan.
The Darkling moved over to a side table, pouring two cups of steaming liquid from a silver pot. He kept one in his hand as he took a seat across from her and passed the other to her.
Alina took a sip and then let out a pleased sigh, "hot shokolad! Fedyor snuck me and Genya some once. It's so good."
"I keep a small stash in my rooms and you're not to tell anyone else," he warned her, a rare little bit of playfulness in his tone, "or you'll find that the books I've given you so far are absolutely fascinating compared to some of the other ones I could have you read."
She grimaced at the thought of more boring books.
"Leadership is not nearly as exciting as many would have you believe," he reminded her, "it is, I'm afraid, simply a lot of studying and paperwork and fools arguing over trivial matters."
"How have you managed for so long?" she asked him, "it must have been excruciatingly dull."
"Perhaps," the Darkling conceded, "but it's improved markedly these last few years."
Alina didn't bother to hide her shy smile, a warm feeling building within her at his compliment.
Saints, she really was entirely failing at trying to get over her feelings.
They talked quietly as they drank their hot shokolad. Nothing too complicated – Alina's eyes were beginning to droop as she started to feel sleepy again and the Darkling obviously sensed she didn't want to discuss politics or paperwork.
The last thing she remembered was his tale of the building of the original Little Palace and then she was fast asleep.
She woke with the sun, lying in her own bed.
The night's events came back to her slowly – the dream, the War Room, the hot shokolad, falling asleep on the divan.
How had she got back to her room? Surely it must have been one of her oprichniki.
Unless …
No, there was no way the Darkling would carry a girl who was rude enough to fall asleep in the middle of his story down the corridor and back to her own suite.
It had to have been an oprichnik.
Didn't it?
"Genya, I want you to tie me up."
"I'm flattered, Alina, and I adore you, of course, but I'm afraid I can't do that to David. It's true that we aren't actually in a relationship yet, but I don't think he'd want me seeing other people."
She flushed pink, "not that, Genya. I'm doing an experiment and I can't use my hands."
The Tailor giggled, "sounds kind of kinky."
"Genyaaaaaaaaa," Alina complained, her cheeks scarlet, "stop making it weird."
"Sorry, darling," her best friend apologised, "it's just so easy to wind you up."
Genya duly used the piece of rope Alina had asked one of her oprichniki for (Dimitri had given her a long, hard look and told her if she tried to escape out of the window on some sort of insane adventure then he'd make her regret it) to tie Alina's hands behind her as she sat on a chair on the middle of her room.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"
Alina shook her head, "it's fine, I know you're busy. If I need any help then I'll just call for my oprichniki."
She had a feeling that all of them, even serious Igor, would be unable to hide their amusement if she required their assistance, so she was hoping she would manage to free herself.
It didn't hurt Alina to create a boiling beam or orb of light, but her light was a part of her and she imagined it would be different with a foreign object. She could try and melt any metal restraints, if she ever managed to use that much of her power without hand movements, but she might burn herself so much in the process that she wouldn't be able to move her hands even if she got free.
Rope, however, would be quickly destroyed by the burning light and thus much less likely to hurt harm her. In addition, there was a little more wiggle room to give her the chance of at least a little hand movement.
It was not exactly what she wanted to spend her free day doing, but it was about the only time she had available at the moment for her experiment, especially since she'd been spending an increasing number of evenings in the War Room reading, sitting in on meetings and learning the complex structure of the spy network the Darkling maintained.
She tried to get comfortable on the chair, only to let out a curse when she shifted wrong and banged her ankle on one of the chair legs.
Off to a great start, Alina, she thought to herself.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tried to find her centre, hoping that a calm state of mind would help her.
In. Out. In. Out. Just like Botkin had taught her.
After a few minutes she opened her eyes and began her first experiment – to try and create a beam of light while her hands were tied up.
As she had thought, there was a small amount of give in the rope that allowed to move her hands a little.
Not enough, unfortunately, to make it easy to summon.
She spent forty-five minutes concentrating, giving herself a headache in the process, and all she could show for it was weak sunlight spilling from her hands, enough to give some light in a dark room but nothing that could harm anyone.
Alina tried not to get despondent. It was more than she would have managed a few months ago, after all. Maybe it was like muscles and needed to be built up over time. She was so used to using hand movements to summon that she probably had to get accustomed to calling the sun without them.
Still, she kept trying, wanting to see if she could at least heat the small amount of light she had managed to summon.
An hour in and Alina started to feel an urge she'd entirely neglected when planning her experiment.
She really, really needed to use the bathroom.
Saints, she hadn't thought this through properly. She'd completely forgotten to consider her own bodily functions and the fact that she'd had three cups of tea with her breakfast before getting Genya to tie her up.
Well, that was going to cut her experiment short.
Letting out a sigh, Alina decided she'd have to continue another day and skip straight to the final part of the day's plan.
Instead of trying to create a beam of light or summon any kind of sunlight, she instead focused on making her hands glow with a light hot enough to burn the rope and allow her to get free.
It wasn't particularly easy to concentrate, especially as her need to use the bathroom increased every moment, but she tried to relax and focus on the idea of a scorching heat that would free her.
For a few minutes it seemed like her plan wouldn't work and she would have to humiliate herself by calling her oprichniki for help.
Then, suddenly, she felt a rush of power run through her. Though she couldn't see it, she knew a small ball of light with all the heat of the sun was held within one of her palms, which she had managed to curve slightly.
It was the work of seconds for the rope to be scorched and break apart, thankfully before she accidentally set fire to something and had to explain that to her oprichniki.
As soon as she was free, Alina ran for the bathroom, glad beyond belief to be able to relieve her bladder.
Later, she threw away the ruined rope, endured a few more raunchy jokes from Genya and made some notes on what she had discovered from her experiment.
Baby steps, she reminded herself, as she shuddered as the thought of captors with metal manacles not easily escaped from, any progress was good.
Alina sat in the shade of one of the tall trees by the lake, daydreaming a little even as she sketched.
She hadn't had much time for drawing lately, having been busy with lessons on statecraft and tomes about the history of Ravka.
Genya had shooed her outside for the afternoon, telling her that the Sun Summoner needed to get a little bit of sun rather than locking herself away in the library or War Room.
She sketched almost absentmindedly and it was only when she heard voices – a couple of Summoners practicing by the lake – that she came back to herself and looked down to see what she had drawn.
The Darkling's face stared back at her.
Of course it was him. He was on her mind so often that she wasn't surprised that she itched to draw him.
It was quite good, even in her overly critical opinion. She'd managed to capture his expression when he watched her summon – slightly widened eyes, mouth curving upwards into an almost-smile, something like awe on his face – better than she ever had before.
It had been a few years since she had given him the drawing that he had framed and hung on his wall. This one was an improvement and she thought maybe she should give it to him.
She'd handed the first one over in person, a little nervous about how he would receive it but without any other concerns.
This one, however, she'd leave on his desk while he was absent.
It made her feel funny, the idea of handing it over. She was sure she'd blush or stammer and give herself away somehow, making the gift-giving an awkward, uncomfortable thing for both of them.
No, better to just leave it for him to find and hope he never brought it up.
The court circular was delivered to Alina's room once a week without fail.
As a child she had usually tossed it away immediately, uninterested in the intricacies and scandals of the Ravkan Court. As she had gotten older, she'd realised it was important to have at least a little knowledge of what was going on in the Grand Palace, if only to know when to avoid going near it. She usually gave it a cursory glance and then got rid of it.
The latest copy, however, had more interesting news than usual.
Apparently,the King would not be attending any court functions for the next few weeks due to an increased workload, which he had "selflessly taken on for the good of Ravka".
Alina had snorted loudly at that line. The day the King dealt with more than the bare minimum of paperwork was the day she agreed to eat herring at every dinner for the next decade.
Over the years she'd learnt to read between the lines of the court circulars, which were always sanitised to ensure they showed the Lantsov Family in the best possible light.
The King being out of commission for a day or two usually meant a particularly bad hangover. A lack of court functions for weeks must be due to some sort of illness.
She smiled a little. It couldn't have happened to a better man, really.
Alina crossed her fingers and prayed fervently for the King to suffer through a very long convalescence period.
Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.
The next chapter, an interlude from the Darkling's POV, should be out next Wednesday, or perhaps a little earlier depending on how much writing I get done.