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.
The Fold, Again
Alina was screaming.
Around her, she could hear shouts and cries of alarm, could feel Aleksander, the only one who dared to get near to her.
She couldn't focus on that, though.
It was a struggle just to breathe, to keep on standing.
Pain, like she'd never felt before.
A thousand knives stabbing into her skin. Burning her up inside, like the sun made flesh.
No Grisha text she'd ever read had described the claiming of an amplifier like this. A loss of control, yes, but not this searing, nearly unbearable pain.
Was this the price for her power, the cost of holding two amplifiers?
With a great deal of effort, she lifted her arms and tried desperately to direct the light upwards.
There was so much power running through her veins. She felt it under her skin, as if it was burning every part of her and remaking it from the light.
It was agonising.
"Alina."
The voice was faint but familiar. Aleksander, more panicked than she'd ever heard him before.
She tried to speak but she found herself unable to form words. All she could do was scream as wave after wave of power rushed out of her.
"Alina."
It was louder now, nearby. Surely, she thought, Aleksander wouldn't have tried to come even closer to her, not with her amplified power so out of control.
Time passed. Seconds, minutes, hours … she really couldn't be sure.
Would it ever stop? Or would she be doomed to stand on the deck and send light up into the sky until she burnt out into a shell of a girl?
No, no, no! She refused to let that happen. She wouldn't let her power control her.
In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
Just like Botkin had taught her.
She could pull the light back, could be a person rather than an exploding sun.
In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
Alina looked into herself, tried to find the deep well inside her where her power came from, attempted to stem the flow of light.
She thought about Aleksander, about Genya and Fedyor, about David and Ivan and Marie and Nadia and Botkin and even Zoya.
The pain lessened, slowly, bit by bit.
"Alina!"
She opened her eyes, could see Aleksander within an arm's length of her, his shadows shielding him from the brightness of her light.
The rest of the boat's occupants were distant figures, as far away as they could get. Only two figures in red – Fedyor and Ivan, most likely – were nearby, protected by Aleksander's shadows.
Slowly, Alina reached her hand out. She idly noticed that her skin was glowing brightly but Aleksander did not hesitate, did not even think before he grasped her hand with his own, his shadows keeping him from being burnt.
She would have thought that his own amplification would make things worse, but instead she felt a little better, as if Aleksander had somehow managed to help her with the iron-clad control he had spent centuries perfecting.
"That's it, solntse," he murmured, "don't let it overwhelm you."
He whispered encouragement to her as the light began to fade a little, the view around her becoming clearer and clearer.
Tears began to trickle down her face and she realised she was crying.
The searing pain was almost gone now, the light no longer blasting upwards.
And yet, Alina was crying, her emotions raw.
"Ssh, milaya," Aleksander wrapped his arms around her, a comforting warmth that she immediately burrowed into, "it's alright."
"I don't know what's wrong with me," she sobbed.
He caressed her hair gently, "you just claimed a second amplifier, Alina. One of Morozova's amplifiers, at that. It's certainly not supposed to be an easy experience."
"I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" she asked, a little scared to hear his answer.
"A few burns, easily healed," he told her, "and some of them might be a bit scared of you. Mostly in awe, though."
Alina grimaced, furious with herself for not having enough control to prevent herself from causing injuries.
"None of that, solntse," he chided her softly, clearly knowing just what she was thinking, "they all knew the risks. And on a boat in the middle of the True Sea, it could have been much, much worse. You had the sense to direct the light upwards almost immediately – if you hadn't done that then I imagine you and I would have been the only survivors."
She let out a choked sob, not sure if she felt better or even more terrible about herself. To know that if she'd been a little more careless, she might have ended up killing nearly everyone aboard.
It was alright, though, she reminded herself. No one was dead and anyone who needed it had been healed.
"Aleksander," she began, but forgot whatever she was about to say when she felt herself hit by a wave of exhaustion, "Aleksander, I …"
"You need to rest, milaya," he insisted, scooping her up as if she weighed nothing and striding towards their cabin door.
She considered protesting, but she really was very tired and a bed sounded like a wonderful idea right now.
Her eyes began to flutter shut. In the background, she could see a few of the crew crossing themselves, Fedyor waving at her, Mal talking with two of the other trackers, glancing darkly in her direction.
She was fast asleep before Aleksander even got her to the bed.
They docked at Os Kervo just over a week later.
Alina was very glad to be back on solid ground. Her newly amplified power wanted to be used, but she had been very limited to the sort of summoning practice she could do on board a ship where any relatively minor accident could potentially cause damage that might sink the ship.
Consequently, she was full of pent-up energy, despite Aleksander's attempts to tire her out with … more pleasurable activities.
On that note, she imagined the rest of the ship were equally pleased to be off the ship. Aleksander seemed to enjoy scandalising them all entirely too much – poor Ivan had been twitchy the entire journey back, while Fedyor just laughed at him.
As for Mal, well it seemed like her old friend wanted nothing more to do with her.
He had spoken to her once since she had claimed her second amplifier, a whispered conversation where he insisted that she was being brainwashed and taken advantage of, and she angrily informed him that she knew her own mind and wasn't going to be lectured by someone who believed ridiculous superstitious tales about the Grisha.
And that was that, the final tenuous link between them broken.
It hurt that it had to end like that, the memory of their old friendship tainted by Mal's inability to accept who she was now
What could she do, though? Mal had made his feelings quite clear and Alina refused to denounce the life she had now simply to make him feel better.
He didn't say goodbye once they had disembarked from the ship. He just took off with two of his tracker friends to enjoy the few days of leave he had before he had to report back to the camp at Kribirsk.
Aleksander watched her carefully, as if expecting some sorrow on her part. There was none to be found, however. She'd said goodbye to Mal when she was eight years old and all this recent time with him had shown her was that they had grown too far apart for their friendship to survive into adulthood.
The ship's crew and the rest of the trackers scattered, with strict orders not to speak of what they had seen.
From Os Kervo, Alina and Aleksander travelled with the Grisha and oprichniki to Novokribirsk, ready to for Alina to attempt to widen the path through the Shadow Fold.
She felt a stab of guilt as the entered the town, as she remembered how she had helped to engulf the dry docks in darkness.
No, she rebuked herself, it was necessary. There were no civilians there, only men who would harm you and other Grisha.
They took rooms at an inn in Novokribirsk that was favoured by the Grisha who visited the city.
Alina wore a scarf over her hair and was kept out of sight until they reached the inn. It was no longer quite so important that the Grand Palace stayed unaware of her location, but the last thing they wanted was to get swamped by peasants wanting to catch a glimpse of Sankta Alina.
At the inn, they found a letter left for Aleksander in the safe-keeping of one of the Grisha staying there. As the other Grisha dispersed to their rooms to rest, Alina and Aleksander headed for their own room, Alina bursting with curiosity to know what the letter said.
It turned out to be from Genya, an update on the situation at the Grand Palace.
Aleksander read it once, then again, in total silence. When he was finished, however, he passed it over to Alina without her even having to ask for it.
She scanned it, eager for information. And, it seemed, there was plenty for them to catch up on. The King had fallen seriously ill with a disease the physicians were struggling to treat. For her own safety, the Queen was confined to her rooms with just one maid, the isolation apparently needed to ensure that, if she was also infected, she did not spread the disease around the Grand Palace. The most dramatic news was the death of Prince Vasily a few days previously – a tragic fall from his horse that had broken his neck instantly.
Some in the court had suggested recalling Prince Nikolai, but documents had made their way around the nobles proving the younger prince's illegitimacy. The King, ill though he was, had been persuaded to sign documents disinheriting Nikolai and formally censoring the Queen for her adultery. The sentence for cuckolding the King was execution but, given the Queen was a close relative of the Fjerdan King, it had been decided that she would instead be stripped of her titles and exiled to a nunnery as soon as it was safe for her to leave the Grand Palace.
"So, it's happening?" Alina asked Aleksander.
The signs were there. The King indisposed and likely to be dead by the time they returned, at least if Genya had anything to do with it. The Queen confined and soon to be exiled. Prince Vasily dead and Nikolai unlikely to find much support for any claim he might make (it would have been one thing if it were just rumours of illegitimacy, but having it all confirmed had forced the King and court into taking decisive action).
"Our further demonstration on the Fold tomorrow will be the final piece. The people love you already, Alina. They will adore you even more when you widen the pathway."
She sighed. She never did enjoy being called Sankta. Too many expectations, too much fear that their worship would turn to hatred soon enough.
"They expect me to destroy the Shadow Fold," she reminded him, "they won't much care for me as soon as it becomes clear the Fold will remain."
"Most people do not know what they want," Aleksander waved a dismissive hand, "they follow like sheep. You will soon find they don't care about the Fold just as long as they have a safe way through, which you have provided for them, and secure borders with little chance of raiding. Their lives will be far safer under our rule than they were under the Lantsov Kings."
He had a point, of course. The lives lost in the Fold were almost entirely due to people attempting to cross it. With the pathway straight through from Kribirsk to Novokribirsk, safe passage would be assured for all those who needed to pass from one side of the country to the other. And the pushing of the Fold further into Shu Han and Fjerda would certainly reduce the risk of enemy soldiers crossing into Ravka, as well as making the job of soldiers a far safer one.
Alina knew they were acting for the good of Ravka, that they could not in good conscience allow the King to continue to ruin the country, but the idea of ruling still scared her.
"I'm seventeen," she whispered, "I don't know how to be a queen."
Aleksander tugged her down into his lap, pressed his lips to her hair, placed the palm of his hand against her neck and let his power soothe her.
"It's not difficult to be an improvement on the current king," he reassured her, the derisive curl of his mouth showing just how little he esteemed the Lantsov king, "and you care about our people, which automatically makes you a better ruler than that fool."
"It's only … what if I fail?"
"Don't be ridiculous, solntse. You and I together … there is no one better to rule."
He spoke with absolute certainty, a confidence she wished she could emulate. Despite everything, she still felt so young next to him, knowing he had centuries of experience with governance, while she had a few years of lessons.
"You need not worry so much, Alina," Aleksander murmured, "you will learn, just as I did. And you know we have the time."
The time. Eternity stretched out in front of them. Another thing she didn't really want to think about.
"One step at a time, moya lyubov," Aleksander said, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, "I'll be right by your side, I promise."
He stood then, still holding her securely in his arms, and walked them both over to the bed on the other side of the room, depositing her carefully on top of the mattress, "shall I distract you, Alina, get that worried mind of yours to relax."
He took his kefta off, folding it carefully over a chair as she watched him, distracted by the sliver of skin she could see peeking out of his black shirt.
She sat up to meet him as he leant down to kiss her, slowly, deeply, his hands deftly pulling off her own kefta.
"Well?" he asked as they broke apart, "you didn't answer my question."
"Yes," she breathed out, already tugging off the rest of her clothes, "distract me, Aleksander."
Even though it had been weeks since the Winter Fete, Alina still couldn't quite believe that she could have this, could have Aleksander. It felt like a dream she didn't want to wake from, a happiness she never really expected.
"As you wish, moya tsarita," he smirked, pulling his shirt over his head and climbing onto the bed, "as you wish."
It was safe to say, Alina was thoroughly distracted for a number of hours, and exhausted enough to enjoy a deep, dreamless sleep the night before her Fold crossing.
At breakfast the next morning, Ivan glowered at her over the table.
Fedyor, on the other hand, gave her a sunny smile, "I take it you had a … satisfying night, Alina?"
She flushed pink, the reason for Ivan's irritation suddenly obvious, "err … quite satisfying, yes."
Saints, she clearly had a problem. She'd tried so hard to be quiet, well aware that the walls of the inn were thinner than those at the Little Palace, but Aleksander had a way of making her lose control, as well as centuries of experience in exactly how to touch a woman to make her see stars.
She glanced surreptitiously around the room, noticing how a number of their fellow Grisha were keeping their eyes deliberately averted from her.
"Sorry, Ivan," she mumbled, feeling like she should apologise.
"Oh, don't worry," Fedyor answered for his husband, "he's got no room to talk. Why, I distinctly remember one occasion … now this is a funny story, Alina. It wasn't long after you came to the Little Palace and –"
He was cut off by Ivan putting a hand firmly over his mouth, "shut up, Fedyor."
Thankfully, Aleksander appeared then, a foreboding presence all in black, instantly stopping any gossip.
Fedyor pulled his hand back and then shoveled three blini into his mouth at once to hide his laughter.
Ivan, who was never one to slouch at the best of times, sat up even straighter, immediately pushing his plate away and producing a pile of papers that he handed over to his General as soon as Aleksander sat down next to Alina.
Naturally, Ivan would never dream of scowling at Aleksander like he had with Alina.
"We'll be leaving in just under an hour," Aleksander told them, "the pathway has been cleared for our use."
"What about the pilgrims?" Ivan asked.
"Pilgrims?" Alina asked, "what do you mean?"
"Your presence here has been noted, Sankta."
He smirked a little as he emphasised her title, probably knowing how much she disliked it.
"We only arrived last night, though," she protested, "I haven't even been out in the city."
"Could one of the crew or trackers talked?" asked Fedyor.
Aleksander shook his head, "they know better."
He was almost certainly correct. It took a brave person to defy a direct order from the Darkling, especially when he knew their name.
Ivan shrugged, "likely just some enterprising merchant. They probably don't even know she's here for sure, just made a lucky guess on realising there were a lot of Grisha and oprichniki around."
"Take some people with you and make sure our route to the new dock is clear," Aleksander ordered, "I don't want any surprises. We can't be sure there aren't any of Zlatan's zealots left."
Ivan nodded and both he and Fedyor stood, heading over to a mixed group of Grisha and oprichniki to discuss the issue with them.
Aleksander's hand grasped hers under the table, "and how are you this morning, milaya? Ready to enter the Fold?"
She nodded, glad that she did in fact feel relatively confident about her upcoming task.
"You mustn't overtax yourself," he said, "our people have no idea what to expect. They will think it a gift if you widen the pathway just a little more. And I do not want to lose you, Alina."
His grip on her hand tightened slightly. She was reminded that he had spent long centuries watching everyone but himself and Baghra die. Young as she was, she couldn't exactly understand how much it meant to him to have another person to spend eternity with, but she could see the emotion in his eyes as he looked at her.
She finished her breakfast in silence as Aleksander sipped from a cup of tea, dropping an extra sugar lump into the drink every time he knew there was no one looking but the two of them.
He offered her his arm when her plate was empty, and they headed back to their room as Ivan, Fedyor and a dozen others headed outside to ensure the route was safe.
A few oprichniki came to collect their luggage, and then they slipped out the back to a familiar black coach.
"A show then?" she turned to look at him.
Aleksander nodded, "it won't hurt for them to see first-hand what you can do. They didn't have a particularly good view the last time, what with all that nasty business with Zlatan."
"Fine," Alina agreed, "but I'm not waving."
"Of course not," he agreed with a sly smile, "you're not Queen … not yet at least."
She automatically looked around, used to searching for signs of the Grand Palace guards whenever she heard one of the treasonous remarks that had become so common among the Grisha in the last year or so.
There was no one else, though. That made sense – Aleksander wasn't the sort to be careless, not when he was so close to his goal.
Despite her insistence that she wouldn't wave, Alina couldn't help it when they passed by a group of adorable children who shouted excitedly, toothy grins on their faces.
"Oh, stop it," she nudged Aleksander as he raised his eyebrows, "the children aren't nearly as frustrating to deal with as the adults."
The journey to the new docks went by quickly, despite the carriage's slow progress as more and more people discovered the Sun Summoner was in the city, lining up outside and making it difficult to drive down some of the roads.
Their skiff was waiting, a slightly updated design almost identical to the one she had first crossed the Fold in.
Ivan, Fedyor and their men had done an excellent job in keeping the area clear of civilians, allowing Alina and Aleksander to exit the carriage and get straight onto the skiff without incident.
Up close, she was reminded of just how foreboding the Shadow Fold was.
She may have travelled through it successfully once before, may have carved a pathway through, but it was still a vast darkness that made her shiver a little.
She steeled herself, though, knew it would be best if she stayed as relaxed as possible.
And then they were away, the bright morning sunlight vanishing as they entered the shadowy domain of the Fold.
Alina kept up a dome of light, the effort negligible with the boost the second amplifier had given to her power. They sped through the darkness until they reached the middle marker and then they slowed down until they came to a stop entirely.
As before, Alina let her light grow and grow before she pushed it outwards.
Saints, she had forgotten how difficult it was.
She had more power now, more control too, but it was still incredibly taxing.
By the time she had managed to extend the pathway enough to add another lane of traffic, Alina could feel the sweat beading on her forehead, the headache building, the tiredness creeping up on her.
She kept going, though, determined that she would make another lane.
Alina might have come around to Aleksander's view about the Fold, realising it was a much-needed weapon and deterrent to be used against the enemies that would otherwise take advantage of a Ravka weakened by years of a weak and useless king, but that didn't mean she wanted innocent people to die trying to cross the Fold. The pathway was important and she wanted to ensure that it was as efficient as possible.
"Alina," Aleksander warned, clearly seeing the strain she was putting herself under, "stop."
"No," she shook her head, the effort it took for the simple movement making her vision go fuzzy, "no, I'm going to finish it, like we planned."
"Alina, solntse," he protested, "it's taking too much from you."
She didn't stop. She was absolutely determined.
For a moment she wondered if he would try to force her to cease her efforts, but instead he moved closer, pulled off his glove and wrapped his hand around her arm, sending an extra jolt of power through her body.
"Thank you," she murmured gratefully.
"Don't thank me just yet," he growled, "if you die then I'll raze this country to the ground."
It was an absolutely horrifying thought, but his words made her smile all the same, "you really do love me."
"What?"
He sounded almost confused, as if he didn't understand what she was saying.
Alina felt like laughing. He'd been calling her moya lyubov for the whole of their journey to claim the sea whip, and yet this was what sent him into some sort of tailspin. Saints, she'd figured out that he'd buried his emotions deep down, but she hadn't imagined he would be quite so surprised by this revelation.
"Don't worry," she said, teeth clenched with the effort of talking while she directed her light to cut through the thick, eerie shadows of the Fold, "I love you too."
"Alina," he made her name sound like a plea and a prayer all at once.
"Alina," he repeated, softly now.
And maybe that was what I love you too sounded like coming from him.
What a place for love confessions.
And then she was distracted, faltering. She felt it all become too much, with half a length of the Fold still left to tunnel through with her light.
She took a breath, took a chance, dug deep inside herself.
Alina shone like the sun she summoned.
Time passed.
She didn't know how much.
At one point, Alina thought she felt a tendril of light reach out to Aleksander, his own shadows rushing to meet it.
In her mind she saw the light and shadows entwining together until they were so tangled up that she thought they'd never be fully separate again.
Beautiful, she thought to herself, so beautiful.
It was anti-climactic, really.
She was blasting light and then, suddenly, she wasn't.
It was all over, the pathway widened to comfortably accommodate three lanes of skiff traffic.
And Alina slumped into Aleksander's waiting arms, head swimming.
As the light faded, she heard whispers and murmurs all around her.
"What's is it?" she mumbled, the worried buzzing around her making her panic despite her bone-deep fatigue, "did something go wrong?"
Aleksander said nothing in response, only cradled her gently in his arms and called out to someone, though she couldn't hear what he was asking for, still too dazed from her efforts slicing through the Fold with her light.
A minute or two later, a small handheld mirror was pressed into her hand. She lifted it up and looked into it, slightly scared to think about what she might see.
And then she gasped, eyes wide as she took in her blindingly white hair, entirely bleached of all colour.
"Saints, how did that …?"
"Merzost," Aleksander sounded intrigued and surprised and anxious all at once, "I thought I felt it, right near the end."
"But …" she stuttered out, "isn't merzost dangerous?"
She looked around, half-expecting to see that she had created her own light version of the Fold.
"Dangerous, yes," he agreed, "but not uncontrollable. The Fold was a manifestation of grief and anger. You were simply tapping deep into power you haven't yet had the chance to use. The physical effects can be seen right here."
He gestured to her hair, twirling a white strand around his fingers, "I believe I could get used to it," he added.
"What other effects could there be?" she asked him, trying hard not to think about how she felt about her hair.
He hummed, a rare lack of certainty on his face, "our powers merged, briefly. Not just superficially, like in our demonstrations, but reaching out, truly connecting. I believe it may have created a tether between us."
That was … well, it wasn't nearly as scary as all the other worrying scenarios she had been considering.
"What does the tether mean?" she asked him curiously.
He shrugged, "it's too soon to tell. I imagine the effects will make themselves known, soon enough."
"Well, that sounds distressingly vague," Alina muttered, irritated by the uncertainty.
"I'm sure it won't be anything nefarious, solntse," he reassured her, "possibly just a deeper awareness of each other."
"That's –" she broke off to yawn loudly, "reassuring, I suppose."
"You need to sleep, milaya," he told her, "the amount of power you used was staggering."
"Mmm," she said, "you make a good pillow. But I think we need to talk about what we said earlier."
He stiffened, "what you said."
She snorted, "I can read between the lines, Aleksander, even with an enigma like you."
"Tomorrow," he promised, "you can barely keep your eyes open. Sleep."
His instruction wasn't needed. She was already drifting off into dreamland.
Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.