Tw: mentions of death, blood and violence. Nothing is too graphic, but beware.
Salting the earth is the ritual of spreading salt in the soil of conquered land by the conquerors in order to prevent crops from ever-growing there again, thereby preventing the conquered from rebuilding.
Alina looks at the blood in her hands, and thinks.
Her whole life has always tasted like salt, but as the red-hot liquid falls from the throne where the Empress, her grandmother, used to sit and reaches her hands and knees, she realizes: her life also tastes like blood.
As she takes in the red on her hands she realizes it could've been her own blood, but this time she had acted. She refused to let the tears fall in vain. She refused to hide and let the atrocities continue. She refused to be a scared little mouse. So she acted, and now her hands are stained with blood and her cheeks are dry.
Tears and blood. Throughout her life those two were constants, so much so that, as she looks at the blood in her hands, she realizes it's always been there, it's not new at all.
It's the blood of her mother, killed mercilessly by the Empress, who had decided that her own daughter was a monstrosity. Therefore, Alina's mother Keyen was sent to the Fold. The Fold, a place to die at the mercy of the Volcra or otherwise be driven insane by the endless darkness.
Alina was ten when it happened, and even back then she couldn't understand how being oneself could be considered monstrous. Even back then, she knew that her grandmother's kindness was nothing but a façade, to cover up what was really torture. That her empire had been built upon terror and punishment to those who were different, those who were Grisha, but to her people the Empress would always be a kind, just ruler. People ignored the lengths her grandmother would go for her plans.
There was once a time where Alina's heart was tender and filled with love; it didn't know fear or revenge. It hadn't hardened, not yet. Her heart hadn't known how to cry in despair or what it was to bleed. Her mother had taught her many things, and yet she was taken from her side before Alina could learn how to protect herself, how to guard herself from the world.
Alina had been meant to be raised as an imperial princess, but she was never allowed to fulfill her destiny. Her mother was unable to raise her as the shining crown jewel, as an heiress, as an Empress to be. Keyen used to tell her she was going to shine as brightly as the sun; her mother was absolutely sure Alina would bring their nation to a bright new era. So, out of spite or perhaps mere irony, Alina raised herself to be the opposite. She learned to be invisible, a little mouse, to draw the least amount of attention to herself. It worked in her favor that due to her mother's fate, she was stripped from all her royal titles and sent to become a maid. She went from being royalty to working inside the palace, where they kept an eye on her and controlled her at all times.
Her mother's death also provided a cover, because after the day she was taken from her, Alina had suppressed a power she didn't even know she had. A power that could change the world. A power that could've sentenced her to the same fate as her mother when she was tested by the royal advisors. Luckily, even her subconscious knew what needed to be done in order to survive.
Alina might've not known of her true power, but she would always be her mother's daughter. She might not be considered royalty anymore, but she was like any daughter of House Taban: clever, cunning and after a while she became as remorseless as her grandmother. She started to gain information, to listen to conversations searching for useful facts, she learned to ask silly questions, and then she demanded answers. Furthermore, she worked hard to gain the trust of many inside the palace, and yet no one would look twice at her, or even think that there could be any traces of ruthlessness behind her facade.
If anyone were to wonder who had the most knowledge about the royal family in the castle, no one would suspect the small, sickly maid that bore a striking resemblance to the late Keyen Kir-Taban. And yet, she knew absolutely everything about the Empress and her aunt, now heiress to the throne. Alina knew their schedules, how they took their drinks, what they ate, what ailments they experienced and the cures given to them. She knew when they went to the bathroom and what they wore to bed, to government meetings or to take a stroll around the gardens.
It had taken her eight years to gather all that information. It took her eight years to decide what to do, when to strike, when to avenge her mother and all the fallen Grisha of Shu Han.
It also took a smile for her to sabotage her own plan as well. All because of Malyen Oretsev.
Alina's life, made up of tears and blood, tasted like salt. But when she saw Mal for the first time, she thought it could taste sweet too. It could feel warm, like her mother's touch. It could look different. She thought she could have a life where revenge and pain were only distant memories.
When she looks back, she realizes how wrong she had been, how disappointed her mother would've been to see her almost ruin her life and her plans for a simpleton boy.
Back then he had been the new stable boy, fresh out of Ravka, looking for a job. Back then, Alina didn't know his true colors, didn't realize who he really was. Back then he seemed like he was the first person who really saw her, not the mouse, not the invisible girl she taught herself to be. She had forgotten who she was, lost sight of her plans and goals, lost sight of what was really important. Alina had half believed her own lies because, back then, her mind had been clouded by promises of a never ending love and a happy life on a farm.
Alina never really liked farms, but after a life of pain and unhappiness, she thought she could settle for that. For something less than what she deserved, at the end of the day, didn't she want happiness? Didn't she want a life free of all the weight she'd been carrying for so long? She was ready to make that trade, if only to have a little sweetness for herself after all her disappointments, the salty tears she'd swallowed back for years.
The throne was supposed to be hers, she was supposed to be Empress. She never mourned those losses as much as she mourned her mother. After the dust settled, once she found herself alone in the world, missing her mother's warmth, Alina realized she didn't really care much to perpetuate an institution that was based on fear and torture. Alina wanted more than revenge, she wanted to burn the whole palace to the ground.
Why would she want a throne that stood on the suffering of others? On her own suffering?
As she looks at Mal's body on the other side of the room, she knows he got what he deserved. For betraying her, for distracting her from her fate. But really, he got what he deserved because he never saw her truly. He really believed her to be this silent, unassuming girl. He really thought she wasn't strong, brave, and determined.
Mal's mistake was to think he could conquer the sun and keep it in his hand. He never realized she would burn anyone that got in her way.
She shared all her knowledge and plans with him, one night after a couple of kisses, after the alcohol loosened her tongue. Alina had never shared those with anyone. She didn't know what it was like to have friends, for so long she had operated in the shadows, with silence as her only companion that she thought it wouldn't hurt to share anything with Mal. To share everything with Mal. He understood her, he liked her, and he had promised her a different path to the one she thought she was bound to.
So what was the danger of sharing the plans of the road not taken with him? If she was going to spend the rest of her life with him, he was allowed to know her deepest, darkest secrets, the thoughts that plagued her mind when she tried to sleep. Soon they would run away to a farm and this would just be a fever dream, something that happened to a different Alina; to Alina Kir-Taban, daughter of the late Keyen Kir-Taban and granddaughter of the Empress of Shu Han. Soon she would be Alina Oretsev, and everything was going to be different for her.
She doesn't think of betrayal as she is taken from her chambers. Her mind doesn't even turn to Mal, her love, or that he could do this to her. Not even when she's taken to the throne room, thrown at the feet of her grandmother, does she think he could've done something like that to her. And yet… She knows she's been betrayed by the one person she thought she could trust.
Alina really thought there was more to life than tears and blood. Mal has made her think it could taste like warm milk in the morning, before going to the fields and tend to the animals. It could feel as soft as the tall grass tickling her calves. It could be as bright as the midday sun. Maybe life could be made up of those things, but not for her, never for her.
Her grandmother speaks. "I showed you mercy, girl. I could have sent you with your mother and the others to the Fold so that disgusting creatures like you could not continue to poison the soil of our nation. And yet, I decided to show you mercy, to spare your life, to give you a living, a profession, and a roof over your head. I could have rid myself of you the same day I sent Keyen to meet her death, and this is how you repay me?"
Alina could deny it, could play dumb, could beg for mercy, could pretend she doesn't understand what she is hearing. Alina could do many things, but she knows it wouldn't make a difference. Years of planning, of trusting no one but herself, all crashing down because she let herself dream, because she forgot that a heart is a useless thing, that dreams are for fools that haven't experienced reality.
From the age of ten, she became a mouse. If she is going to die now, she is going to die as Alina Kir-Taban; she will die as her mother's daughter.
"How dare you say my mother's name? You speak of mercy from your golden throne, and yet you fail to see how it bleeds. You speak of sparing my life, and yet you killed the one thing I wanted to live for. Aren't you supposed to protect your people? What an inspiring Empress you are, speaking of mercy as the walls of this place are covered in the blood of innocents." Alina spits at her grandmother's feet after she speaks, and in response she gets a knee between her ribs, leaving her breathless.
"Careful, Alina, you sound like the Darkling," replies the Empress. "It's him you should be mad at, he's the one who created the Fold, after all."
There was a time when her grandmother's words would've rung true in her ears. When she was younger and mourning, before her heart completely hardened, before she understood the rules of the world she lives in. She knows better than to point fingers at the Starless Saint. Her grandmother was the one who sentenced her mother to her death. Leyti Kir-Taban is the person responsible for the murder of thousands of Grisha, including sentencing her own eldest daughter to death. Just because Keyen, and all the other Grisha, don't fit in her grandmother's vision of an empire.
Why would Alina blame the gun, when there is someone who pulled the trigger? Why would Alina care about anyone else when she is looking in the eyes of the person who destroyed her life and thousands of others?
"I can't believe you really thought you could even begin to contemplate committing murder. Dear Keyen certainly did fill your head with grandiose thoughts."
At the mention of her mother, Alina sees red. "Keep my mother's name out of your mouth. I will not tolerate it! " She hisses. There are few things in her life she holds close to her heart, she will not allow the memory of her mother to be disrespected by the person responsible for her death.
"You won't tolerate it?" A laugh comes out of her grandmother's cracked lips. It hurts almost as bad as a slap on her face. "Or what, my dear granddaughter? You'll kill me?" The thought amuses the Empress, who openly laughs in her face after she asks.
Alina's blood boils at the horrible sound of her laugh, and she tries, once again, to stand up and do something. Once again she's met with a kick, this time in the middle of the stomach, that leaves her in an immense amount of pain and a mouth with a coppery taste, already too familiar to her. Salt.
How she wishes she could've killed her. She would've enjoyed it thoroughly.
Maybe, if she weren't on her knees, being held by two guards. Maybe, if she hadn't trusted Mal. Maybe, if she had been smarter and kept her guard up. There are a lot of maybes in her head, but she knows that her fate is now the same as her mother's. She accepts it.
A lone tear escapes her eye, how she wishes she had avenged her mother. She wishes she really could have brought a new era to Shu Han, one that was as bright as her mother intended.
"Get her out of my sight. I don't have anything to say to her anymore." The Empress dismisses her with a flick of her hand, as if Alina is nothing, as if she is not her own flesh and blood.
Alina feels two arms lifting her up from the ground, and although she does her best to not cry, to not let them know what she feels, her eyes fill with unshed tears.
But then, she sees him.
"Well then, boy. It seems like your information was right after all, you will get your reward." Her grandmother says to Mal, whose smile is as bright as the day they kissed for the first time. "Bring me my daughter!" Leyti shouts to the guards next to her, and Alina doesn't understand, doesn't want to see… "Who knows? Maybe one day your daughter will sit on my throne."
She can't contain the sob that escapes from her lips. All this time he was just deceiving her? Playing with her and toying with her feelings? It had been premeditated then, he didn't betray her for money after she spilled everything but instead, he had played his part as a court climber perfectly. He knew exactly what he was doing, putting himself in Alina's path, charming her and purposefully drawing out Alina's secrets in order to gain her grandmother's favor.
Both of them turn around to see her after hearing her pathetic sob, and their smiles tell her everything she needs to know.
"Stop!" She hears her grandmother say, and the guards stop moving, still lifting her by the arms. Although it was the Empress who gave the order, it's Malyen who approaches her with a smile that seems so unlike him, like the person she knew.
But she never really knew him, did she?
"You really fell for the farm, didn't you?" He asks, looking at her with pity. "Little Alina, you thought you were clever, you thought you were better than anyone. Look at you, did you really think you had outsmarted everyone? Well… I should give you some credit because you did, but that was only until they sent the right bait. You fell for it, like the peasants in Ravka do about the Sun Saint."
She spits at him, to try to distract herself, because she feels like crying. At the end of the day, he's right. She fell for a boy and a promise of happiness. How pathetic.
"Now you get to meet the darkness while I make my way to the throne, all thanks to you." He says, not even showing any signs of bother about her spit. "Take her, she's eager to meet the Volcra." Mal says to the guards before walking back to the throne.
Suddenly Alina doesn't feel like crying anymore. She feels anger take over her entire body. It's been simmering in her belly ever since she was unceremoniously taken from her bed, but now it courses through her, it fills her veins as fury fills her mind.
He doesn't get to be happy after betraying her, if she must die then she'll do it, but she'll take him with her.
"Let me go!" Alina screams, using a strength never thought she had to escape from the grip of the guards.
That's when she realizes there's something more coursing through her veins. Something that's not anger, but somehow feels familiar, like she's felt it before. It reminds her of her mother, of her warmth, of her love. But it feels bigger than that, stronger than that, sharper than that, deadlier than that.
Mal and the Empress turn their heads to look at her once she frees herself and makes a run towards them. Neither of them look particularly scared, only annoyed that their conversation gets interrupted because of the commotion.
"Guards! How hard can it be to keep a sickly little girl subdued?" Her grandmother questions, her tone revealing how unbothered she is by the turn of events.
She doesn't realize she should feel scared, that she should fear for her life. Because Alina doesn't feel sick or small anymore. She feels powerful, she understands that whatever is flowing through her veins is power. Real power, one that comes from within, one that doesn't rely on others. This is Alina's power and hers only, it exists in her, it always will. This isn't what her grandmother calls power, unlike hers, no one can take Alina's power away. It is not the facsimile her grandmother clings to, this is something bigger, better.
It might just be what she needs to fulfill her lifelong plan. It might be just what she needs to finally burn this place to the ground.
A few minutes ago she stoically had accepted that she was about to die, but now she refuses to bow down to fate. She makes her own fate, her mother had taught her that.
Two guards manage to get their hands on her and keep her from reaching the throne, where her traitorous lover and her mother's executioner stand. But that doesn't mean anything.
Well, it means they are the first to die, once Alina lets go. She doesn't care what it is, she just can't contain it any longer, because it burns so much she's afraid she'll be consumed, and she'd rather take this place with her. When Alina lets go, when she unleashes whatever it is that's running through her body, the whole room trembles and a dome of light stems from her taking everything in its path.
If you asked her what color rage is, she would say red, but not any kind, the blood-red kind. The kind that spills from the corners of your mouth after you have eaten your heart. But red is not the color that comes from her body. Instead, the whole room is bathed in a golden light that resembles the drawings in the story books her mother used to read to her when she was young.
It renders her speechless, she doesn't know what to do or say, and for a second she just looks around at the thing that came through her. It's so beautiful she can't believe it was born out of rage, out of her thirst for revenge, out of her desire to burn it all down.
But then she comes back to her senses and realizes it might be pretty, but it's also deadly. It's just like her, she thinks as she looks around the room, eyes traveling through the bodies of the fallen guards and Mal. She assumes everyone to be dead, everyone but her grandmother, the Empress, the only one who's still standing.
She still doesn't seem scared, which is a big mistake on her part. She should feel scared, she should be trembling and fearing for her life.
"Well then, it seems like there's something of dear Keyen in you. I should've killed you before you had a chance to turn into trouble."
Alina can't take it anymore, she used to be weak, she'll admit to that, but right now she feels the power, the strength flowing through her veins. So she grabs her grandmother by the neck, both hands pressing until the old woman's face starts to reflect fear.
Good. Didn't she say that they should fear her? Didn't she state that from the very beginning?
"I told you already; keep my mother's name out of your mouth." Alina says, with a voice that sounds so different from her own. It's cold and sharp, it's like she has a gun for a mouth and a blade for a tongue. Her grandmother seems to notice. "You were told I was going to kill you, and I intend to do it. Before you murdered my mother, she taught me to keep my word, dear nǎi nai."
It's been ages since she used the term of endearment, so it seems fitting to do it now. The last thing her grandmother will hear is her granddaughter's voice, filled with rage, with hatred. A term of endearment that feels like a punch to the gut.
Alina uses her grip on her throat to push her against the throne, forcing her to sit. She uses just the right amount of strength so that her dear grandmother doesn't pass out and instead can be witness to her own death.
"I hope mama makes you pay when you reunite in the afterlife." She says with a vicious smile before unleashing all her power yet again.
This time it's not like a couple of minutes ago, this time the light that comes out of her body resembles a sword that goes straight to the Empress' neck, beheading her in under a second. Years of the Kir-Taban dynasty, brought to an end thanks to Alina.
She falls to her knees, and as she takes in the red on her hands she realizes it could've been her own blood, but this time she had acted. She refused to let the tears fall in vain. She refused to hide and let the atrocities continue. She refused to be a scared little mouse. So she acted, and now her hands are stained with blood and her cheeks are dry, save from one lonely tear she lets escape from her eye.
Suddenly she feels tired; after years and years of planning her revenge, she has finally succeeded; her grandmother is finally dead. She still needs to find her aunt, but it's okay, she can take a second to get her strength. At least she got to kill Mal, as a treat.
As she thinks about that, about the thrill of having killed two people who absolutely deserved it, she realizes that whatever it is that's flowing through her body has caught up to her. Alina is exhausted. But for the first time since her mother was taken from her side, she feels like she can take a breath. She feels like she can smile.
Her hands are covered in blood, but at least it's not the innocent kind. Alina can live with that. How many have been saved because of her action? She can live with more blood on her hands. She'll carry the burden, she always has.
But as she looks at her hands, the room starts to grow dark. Minutes ago the place was covered in her light, and now shadows lurk around the edges. Alina doesn't need to look up to know who it is, and yet, as she feels his presence near her, she stops looking at her bloody hands and focuses on him.
The Darkling, defender of Grisha. A god among them.
Alina has never seen someone so beautiful. He stands there and holds her gaze, and she swears she's seen his face in the making at the heart of the world. Her mother used to tell her that, when she was alive, when they cuddled in bed and read old stories. Keyen used to tell her about Grisha, hushed tales and myths that could never leave the safety of her room. Alina never really understood what her mother meant with that phrase, and Keyen never revealed its true contents before her death.
As she sees him, as she takes him in, she understands what her mother meant with that ominous phrase that has haunted Alina's dreams since she can remember.
She doesn't know how, or why, but she feels a pull towards him, as if she already knows who he is. Alina didn't grow up to fear the darkness, to be scared of the shadows, if anything it was the contrary. Growing up, she always felt comforted by the darkness. She could never explain it, but it felt familiar, she felt better in the shadows, she felt safe standing in the darkness. Sometimes, it felt like a hug. And as she looks at him, she understands why.
Somehow, this feels inevitable.
Her mother also used to talk to her about the red string of fate, about how all people, Grisha or not, had a red string around their ankle and on the other side of it there was another, 'their true love', her mother used to say. It was a myth, a legend, a story to tell children. Her mother was never one to fill her head with nonsense though, making Alina realize it wasn't just a tale. Her mother had shared that with her because it was real. It was yet another one of her mother's teachings that stood with her despite the passage of time.
Keyen taught her the story so that, when it happened, when Alina found her person, she wouldn't doubt or fight it, she would accept it and embrace it with her head held high.
As Alina looks at him, the Darkling, protagonist of nightmares and horror stories, she realizes he's none of that, or maybe he is all of that, but he's also more. He's the person at the end of her red string, the person her fate is irrevocably tied to.
There is the faint ghost of a smile on her lips. It's fitting, she thinks, after all, wasn't she supposed to be an imperial princess? An Empress of House Taban? Wasn't she something that came out of a nightmare? Claws, teeth, sharp edges, blood, and tears? Wasn't she carved out of salt? She was all of that, and now she had light, light to rival his shadows, of that much she's certain. It makes sense the Darkling is the one she's bound to. No one else could be a match to her.
"What are you doing here?" She asks as he silently offers her his hand. She takes it, wanting to know if he's real, if he's not something she conjured up or something her light is making her see. He is real, that much she can tell, as she touches his clean hand. He doesn't even flinch at the blood that stains his skin. If legends are true, then he's at least a few hundred years old, the blood on her hands must be nothing compared to what he has witnessed.
"You called to me. Your light did." He explains, voice soothing and calm. This doesn't seem like a surprise to him, so maybe he feels the pull as well. It's been years since her heart had beaten in her chest. After all she had eaten it, she removed it from her body, as there was no use for such a thing anymore. And yet it's beating, because of him. "I have been waiting a long time for you."
She doesn't know if a man called the Darkling has a heart, but she's willing to bet that if he didn't have one before, he does now.
As she stands to her full height, she continues to look at him, taking him in. She might not know what the light was, she might not know what the future holds for her, but as she looks into his eyes, Alina knows the answers to all the questions she can think of lie there.
A couple of minutes ago, Alina was going to be sent to the Fold, to suffer the same fate her mother had. But as she feels the gentle grip of his hand on hers and the way he looks at her, not in surprise, but in awe, makes her understand that now her future is next to him.
For all the comments and gossip that flows through the palace about the Darkling, no one ever bothered to mention how soft is his skin, how kind is his touch. But his touch also makes her remember when she felt her power traveling through her body. Even if she's tired, she feels powerful, she feels as if she could call the light and bathe the room once again, but this time it wouldn't be deadly, for why would she ever want to harm him?
He uses his free hand to caress her cheek, so softly, Alina feels she might cry. It's been ages since someone touched her like that, with reverence and respect, but also with something that resembles love. Mal's hand was rough on her skin, she used to think it was because of his work, but now she knows it's because it was a true reflection of who he was. An ominous signal of how his destiny tied to Alina. The Darkling's touch is nothing like that, despite everything he's supposed to be, his gesture is gentle. So she leans into his touch, looking at him as if she can't get enough. He said he has been waiting for a long time for her, but as she looks at him, as she extends one of her bloodied hands to caress his cheek, she thinks she has been waiting for a long time as well.
A lone tear falls from her eyes, and his thumb quickly brushes it away.
Before she can say anything, the sound of footsteps against the marble floors reminds her that they are not alone, that they are, in fact, in the palace where she just assassinated the Empress. She turns around to see the throne room filled with armed guards, and although she's exhausted, Alina knows she won't let anyone come close or even try to touch either of them.
In the end, it doesn't matter, Aleksander lets go of their joined hands just to produce an exact same blade that she used to assassinate the Empress. His is black and probably made of shadows, but incredibly fascinating.
Alina doesn't even blink as he kills everyone in the room, she is unable to do anything other than watch in awe how precise he is, how beautiful his form is, and how exquisite his movements are.
"What am I?" She asks, looking back at him. His cheek is now covered in blood, but he doesn't seem bothered by it, instead, he gifts her with a small smile, filled with fondness.
"You are Grisha. You are not alone." He answers, using his knuckles to caress her cheek. His voice is impossibly soft and yet it's commanding, not weak. "You are the Sun Summoner, until now you were just a myth, but not to worry Sol Koroleva, you and I are going to change the world." He says, before once again taking one of her hands and kissing her bruised knuckles.
It's not a promise, it's not even a vow he's making to her. It's the truth, plain and simple.
Alina smiles at the gesture, she smiles because it's the truth, and she feels it in her bones, in the tether, in the string that binds them together. Mal betrayed her, he promised her lies, he fed her spoonfuls of deceit; she should be wary of anyone who promises anything. But Alina doesn't have it in herself to doubt him. This is the Darkling, he's not a boy, he's not a man, he's eternal.
And so is she.
She opens her mouth to say something, but in that same moment a feral scream breaks the silence of the room. Without even taking her eyes off him, she knows it's her aunt that finally left her bed to see the mess they have made in the throne room. Alina doesn't have an ounce of sympathy for her. After all, she had to be forcibly removed from her mother's side before Keyen was sent to the Fold, making her aunt see the decapitated body of the Empress is just what Alina can do to repay her.
"You little piece of shit, we should've sent you to the Fold…" Makhi Kir-Taban's last words are cut short as the Darkling uses his shadows to suffocate her aunt.
Alina watches as the shadows flow from him before starting to wrap around her aunt, like a snake surrounding its prey before slowly taking all the life away from them. While her grandmother's death was quick and somehow painless, her aunt suffers and agonizes, something Alina didn't know she wanted, no, needed to see.
It's like she's in a trance, like he put a spell on her, and she can only look away as the lifeless body of her aunt falls to the marble floor. There's no blood, and although she misses the familiarity of it, she also finds it relieving there is no more blood.
"There are no others like us, and there never will be." He says, turning back to look at her after the shadows come back to him. "Like calls to like. I'm your equal…"
The red string of fate never breaks, it never makes mistakes. Indeed, they are true equals. Their destinies are irrevocably intertwined.
"Alina, my name is Alina." She provides as his hands cup her face, and he brings her closer to his body. Now her face is stained with blood, just as his own is.
"Alina." He repeats, and it feels like she has found a home of her own, a place for herself. After years of simply existing, as he calls her name, she feels there is a place where she belongs, and it's by his side. She feels alive again. "Then you must call me Aleksander."
He offers his name, and she smiles for the first time since she had her mother and she knew what real, unconditional love was. This is more than a name, after all, because she's sure she might be the only person that's alive that knows his name.
"Aleksander." She repeats, before her hands cup his face and brings their faces closer. "Aleksander." She says again, this time barely a whisper, before she joins their lips. At first, it's slow, tentative, she wants to remember this moment, she wants to taste his lips and become acquainted with them. He lets her take the lead, lets the kiss be sweet and tender, a stark contrast to the scene that surrounds them.
But then his lips part hers and suddenly his tongue is in her mouth, and Alina just knows this is the person her heart belongs to. This is the person she's going to spend eternity with. Aleksander moves one of his hands from her cheek to her back, pressing her to his body as he continues to taste her, as if he's almost desperate. All the tenderness he showed her has now morphed into something else.
Hunger, she belatedly realizes as she eagerly kisses him back. They have both been hungry for a while and now that they have found an equal, they get to devour each other. Why settle for eating her own heart when he was right there, offering his to her?
Eventually they break the kiss, and he rests his forehead on hers. There's a small smile on his lips, and she knows she has one as well on her face. "Aleksander…" She says again, taking in the moment, savoring his name in her mouth. If she feels like he's home, she wants him to feel the same.
The moment is inevitably broken when a groan erupts from one side of the room. She immediately knows who he is, and she curses, because he assumed he was long gone. The guards didn't survive the blast from her powers, granted, they were closer to her than Mal was. That's probably what saved him from dying. Maybe it's better like this, because this way he can see who's accompanying her.
She can see Aleksander's shadows move towards Mal's body, but she shakes her head. "No, I will do it." He nods in response, not questioning her, only following as she walks towards him, towards the person who in almost ruining everything helped her discover her power.
To think she risked everything for this pitiful, pathetic thing that's now as good as dead. She would've let Aleksander do it, his killing method seems to be more efficient than hers, but she wants to do this herself, she wants her face to be the last thing that Malyen sees before he dies.
"Alina I…" He sobs, and she once again spits on his face, all the rage and pain leaving her body as she does.
"Far away from the throne aren't we, Malyen?" She asks, not bothering to conceal the hatred in her voice. "Just so you know, there are no thrones where you are going."
"Alina, please!" Mal begs as she once again calls the light. She can feel Aleksander's hand on the back of her neck, his touch making her even more powerful than before. "Please, I beg of you!"
Those are the last words Malyen Oretsev ever says before Alina sends an orb of light that completely destroys his face. No one will ever look at him, not even in the afterlife he will be able to use his face.
"You were perfect." Aleksander whispers against her ear, just as she turns to look at him. As she looks at him, she realizes his face is full of awe and devotion, he isn't even trying to conceal his true feelings.
"What happens now?" She asks, not giving Mal a second look. Alina refuses to waste yet another second on him.
"The only thing more powerful than you and me: the two of us." He says. Aleksander's eyes don't leave her face, he looks at her like he has found an answer to every question he has ever dared to ask. He looks at her and Alina knows, this time for sure, without a doubt, that he is truly seeing her for who she is. Aleksander probably is capable of looking beyond what meets his eye, understanding her true power and her true self. By his side she can learn, she can finally be who she was meant to be. "I'll burn this place to the ground, for you. I can promise you that."
Alina appreciates his offer, she really does, but they are meant to be equals, true partners. Maybe for some people, that means she's meant to balance him, but she has no interest in doing so. What it means to her is that they'll share the burden. Because the light might be beautiful, but Alina is also deadly, just as deadly as the exquisite shadows that come from him.
He won't have to fight this war alone anymore, she silently promises him as much. She raises herself to be able to kiss him, this time it's just a peck on the lips, just to seal her promise to him.
"No, we will do it. We will burn anyone who dares to even think about hurting our kind." She promises, taking his hand in hers, interlacing their fingers together before she softly kisses the palm of his hand.
For so long, her life has been composed of tears and blood, of revenge plans, of solitude; having a partner, an equal, is something that makes her look forward, makes her dream of a future where Grisha can be at peace.
Makes her think that, maybe, future generations won't ever know what it's like to have blood stained hands or tear streaked cheeks. Because she and Aleksander will build that future for them.
She'll make sure of it.
fin.