AN:
#everyone except Baghra are now archetypal rom-com mothers internally #they want the grandkids, k?
The, uh, fluff? It grew out of control. The plot asks for angst, but this chapter actually covers only like 33% of its outline... (I have to blame an awesome, angsty dark-romance i've read. Once I read something fluffy but awful, i'm gonna be ready for the planned angst.
Thanks to her little birds, Genya knew as soon as the Darkling was seen in Os Alta. It didn't take much cunning to escape Tsarina's clutches these days – the Tailor was ready to greet their soveren just in time to see him emerge slowly from the famous black carriage. Oprichniki disappeared once he entered the Little Palace, and behind the closed door, safe from otkazat'sya eyes, the Darkling lost that perfectly calm facade – not that Genya expected anything else.
The Sun Summoner has been found, and her presence will change Ravka. Or at least that's what the stories claimed. General's entourage didn't linger around – they spread out like perfectly coordinated... well... army, so not even Ivan or Zoya were present at the Darkling's side when he marched towards his quarters.
Inside there could be no eavesdroppers – the War Room was the most safe of all chambers at the Little Palace - so Genya quickly moved on to her detailed report, or at least to all the intel she's gathered ever since the mysterious woman arrived, "She'd been brought to the Tsar by Prince Vasily himself... Apparat acts crazy, mumbling something about sacred texts and prophets... It would be over soon but since I've heard the news, I've reduced the dose... I've only seen her Summon once, she couldn't have been properly trained..."
And so it went for almost an hour, the Darkling factorizing every word heard from the Sun Summoner, every action the woman's taken, every opinion she's expressed... Genya finally reminded the General that the Tsar would no doubt send for him. The news of the Darkling's arrival must have reached the Grand Palace by now.
From her seat at the War Room, Genya studied the panicked way the Darkling went through the contents of the nearest wardrobe. She never realized there were so many shades of black, but she supposed the variety of textiles and textures could only rival that of Tsarina's clothes. Without a doubt the Darkling wouldn't be pleased with such comparison. "Moi soverenyi, perhaps you should consider-" she reached cautiously towards his face. All the time Genya knew him, the Darkling was very strict when it came to his personal space, but today was the first time when he actually needed her Tailoring for himself. He must have seen his reflection though – once he nodded at her, Genya quickly got rid of the horrible dark circles underneath his eyes, the sickly blush, and - as a bonus - fixed that disaster that his usually perfect hair has turned into. Her flawless craft will of course survive the bath that he should take now.
It always felt right when she worked with her kin – or really, just if she wanted to Tailor someone. Genya nodded happily at her thoughts. As she felt the thrill from Small Science quickening her pulse, she couldn't help but add helpfully, "If I were you, moi soverenyi, I'd Summon for a while before going to the Grand Palace."
The Darkling glared at her.
"I wasn't born yesterday, Genya!" he snapped viciously and gestured her away. The Tailor couldn't help but wonder, on her way out, that for a man supposed to meet the long-awaited answer to his prayers, the Darkling didn't seem to be much pleased about it.
And now Genya knows the reason why.
Three hours later, watching the Darkling arrive at the court tailed with his favorites, she easily remembered all those times in the last few years, when the Darkling kept on turning to his right expectantly, as if… As if there should be someone on his side, ready to scheme with him, to share an insight on something or just to laugh at a weird joke he made. It was like he got used to having someone close.
Others noticed as well and ignored it, but Genya had never really forgotten. Of course, she also noticed that of all the extraordinary individuals he surrounded himself with, only little Alina Starkov has never returned to the Little Palace since leaving it so unexpectedly as a part of his squadron. Winter Fetes and Summer Solstices have passed, the Darkling appeared and disappeared from the capital with less and less frequency, but there still was no trace of the strange Inferni, until now.
Now Alina Starkov was back, and Genya had to wonder if that woman wouldn't make bigger news than the Sun Summoner – at least within the safe walls of the Little Palace.
Because when Alina decided to return, she did it with a style, practically gliding on the Darkling's right, barely half a step behind him. Visibly shorter than the General, the pair could have looked comical but instead Alina gave the Darkling a startlingly needed feminine counterpart. A simple braid and the carelessly displayed marks on her face somehow made the Inferni look… regal. Anyone who wanted to see wouldn't miss the straightened posture or that proudly raised chin.
Alina Starkov has always been something else, but now that she fitted so perfectly that previously empty spot at the Darkling's side, Genya realized that this woman could be the last piece of a puzzle...
The introductions and promises and threats were made, but all along she couldn't help but notice the strange angle of the General's head, the imperceptible touches of a hand clad in blue, and overthink every subtle dance of shadows or flames inside the chamber.
The Tailor lowered her head to hide a smile.
Behind every powerful man, there is a woman...
She couldn't wait to see what their Darkling would be capable of now that he found (or was captured by) his. Sadly, it wouldn't go too smoothly at the beginning.
Especially when there was a matter of the Sun Summoner to be considered first...
This is not going to be just about politics and the future of our people. The Darkling will turn this into his personal relationship drama. At least he might finally end up with an heir after all this time.
Everyone knew how it was supposed to work – each Darkling was required to produce one to secure Ravka's future more than any Tsar, and according to her sources, in all the recorded history of their Darkling, there was no trace of an heir or even their possibility. As ridiculous as it sounded, the Black General in love was actually a good thing.
Oh, she needed no Heartrender to consult it with – Genya worked too close with the Darkling to ignore the truth practically written on his face. She was great at reading others as well, even a woman she hasn't seen in years… And if Genya wasn't mistaken, if Alina Starkov was in love with the Darkling, then Vasily's sweet little Sun Summoner wouldn't even know what hit her.
Alina still didn't know what to think even when they all gathered behind their General like good little ducklings and followed him into the Grand Palace. She was both excited and frightened, and thousands of thoughts swam through her head the closer they got. The inside of the King's Palace was as ugly as the outside, and she wasn't even surprised when the Darkling stood abruptly in the middle of the ballroom, where it turned out began an comically large area raised around the thrones. (There were many, many stairs that must have been an absolute pain to climb up on. She briefly wondered how did their obese King get onto his seat, but then perhaps he lived up there permanently.)
Near the top, one step under a bearded man with an ugly face and smug smile who couldn't be anyone other than Prince Vasily, sat a stunning young woman with thick, strawberry blond curls. She looked fragile like a porcelain doll imported from Shu Han for the courtiers' daughters, and her big, innocent eyes only strengthened the impression.
The woman wore a nightmare of a dress, glamorously cut but yellow like a yolk and covered with embroidery that struggled to resemble those of kefta. Alina could swear all the gathered Materialki burned with a desire to dress the Sun Summoner properly.
Not so fast. First she needs to see where she belongs, and that's not with the Lantsovs.
Still, the light seemed to gather around her in a way that made Alina yearn. Excitement won for now, and she couldn't wait to finally talk privately with another like her. Alina didn't need to be too special, right? She was already the miraculous Inferni, the bright commander... She didn't have to be the one and only Sun Summoner in history. Not when she could have a... sister.
The Darkling still didn't move, despite the Tsar's falsely jovial encouragement or the whispers of the otkazat'sya courtiers and already present Grisha.
Alina's heart ached with sympathy when she remembered that she wasn't the only one so personally affected by a Sun Summoner. Before she realized what she's done, Alina touched his back gently, the silk of his cape (he really couldn't drop it, even in summer, even inside a damn chamber filled with people…) pleasantly cooling her feverish skin, if only for a brief moment. You're not alone with this.
Her hand seemed to be the only encouragement needed, for the Darkling moved abruptly, leaving his entourage slightly behind. After all the necessary dancing around the subject and receiving pleasantries, the Tsar has finally allowed the Prince to present his companion.
"Allow me to introduce, Lady Vasilissa Grigoryevna, the Sun Summoner, the Living Saint-"
"Too soon, too soon!" muttered Apparat from behind the throne, but Alina was the only one to pay him attention, everyone too busy gaping at Vasilissa Grigoryevna and the Darkling kissing her offered hand. (It was the first time that Alina saw him so... affected or charming, too used to either the precise leader of an army or that softer side of him, the one that spent so much time discussing the Black Heretic and merzost with her at night.)
Alina tightened her lips and looked around to find the nearest source of alcohol. She needn't worry about controlling herself today – the chamber was so perfectly illuminated, no doubt courtesy of lady Vasylissa, that no one would see even if she lost it.
Almost shyly, she stole a glance toward the woman. Alina imagined she would feel an immediate connection between them, like she did at Keramzin with the Grisha examiners, or in Little Palace with other children, or even with the Darkling.
But there was nothing.
Alina shrugged and cursed herself mentally. Of course there could be no bond between her and someone she's never talked to. The time for them to meet would come soon, and for now she needed to keep up the appearances.
So she joined the current of Grisha walking around the ballroom, drinking champagne and gossiping. She did promise Ivan they would talk soon - there was no privacy during the ride to Os Alta and she could almost feel the concern radiating from the Heartrender –but now it just wasn't the time, right? Alina tried to find David in a crowd and failed. She caught Genya's eyes from where the Tailor stood near the Queen, and attempted to move towards her but the other Grisha shook her head at Inferni, looking almost... anxious. Alina probably shouldn't bother her anyway – not at the court - so she only rolled her eyes and gave up on avoiding her brother. And why should she, when he looked so nice with all the pink crumbs sticking to his cheek?
"See?! You've waited too long, now this... this... blondie will steal all the glory," he hissed into her ear. "Maybe even blink away the Fold from existence on her own, and-"
"Calm down, Ivan," she cut him off with affected laziness, even faked a yawn to make a point. "I'll tell him when I'm ready. And she's more like a redhead, I think..." She smiled sweetly at Fedyor on her brother's side and followed the example of the last few days - ignored the panic clenching her stomach. She'd sooner die on spot than admit that maybe, just maybe, Ivan might have been right all these years. But you couldn't change the past, now could you, and she will just use the other Sun Summoner to clear her path to greatness. Or something. It wouldn't be the first time she turned an obstacle into an asset...
Curiosity had her drag both Ivan and Fedyor ("See, love? I don't know what you said, but you made Alina upset. Haven't you seen how tired she was during the journey?") towards the Darkling and Sun Summoner. It was always wise to bring a Heartender to an eavesdropping session. Three Grisha discreetly stared at their General talking with Grigoryevna.
They seemed to get on well, the only questionable moment Alina paid attention to was when the woman got tired of 'all the pointless titles'.
"General, I insist... Please, call me Vasya."
The Darkling failed to hide his inelegant snort and his eyes met Alina's from above the flute of champagne she practically choked on. There was no doubt the two of them had the same idea what to associate that particular name with. Alina couldn't help herself, manners be damned. She unhooked her arm from Ivan's and boldly climbed higher to whisper in the Darkling's ear: "Good luck seducing her away from the Lantsovs if she reminds you of your favorite mount, moi soverenyi."
That lovely pale face blushed, but this time he managed to mask his chuckle with cough. "Yes, thank you, commander Starkov. It's a very... severe... breach of the, ah, security. We will take care of it, yes."
She walked back to Ivan without turning back, leaving the Darkling coughing and a Sun Summoner pouting her lips and narrowing her eyes.
If Genya wasn't so distracted planning the Darklings dynasty – and also making sure the Queen doesn't embarrass herself too much – she might have noticed that there was one more person who ignored the Sun Summoner, and focused instead on the only man in black and one of the many women in blue, someone never seen before inside the Grand Palace.
A pair of cold, gray eyes traveled between the Darkling and the Inferni (separated now by the crowd but somehow not separated at all), not liking what they saw.
Calculating.
Aleksander thought he was going to talk with Alina on their walk back home, but when he was ready to leave the ballroom, he found her dozing off on a sofa, and she's been there for some time according to an Oprichnik he discreetly assigned her. Ivan has already left – he was less cross with security protocols when they were in the capital, and Aleksander certainly didn't mind when he gently picked up sleeping Alina. He eyed the distance towards the Little Palace warily. Perhaps the carriage... But no – he thickened the shadows around them (even if they used the side exit, he doubted Alina wanted to be seen carried like a baby... or a bride) and walked proudly home, even if he spent the whole way thinking mostly about his bad form. If he wanted to carry Alina around in the future, he had to spend less time bent over the maps and more on fencing, since the front usually had him use Small Science. Just when he got used to Alina's warmth in his arms, he was stopped by Ivan.
The Heartrender was waiting for them near the entry, his arms crossed and a glare fixed on his face, a glare that Aleksander wasn't usually a victim of... But he guessed that-
"Thank you, moi soverenyi. I'll take her from here."
If Aleksander didn't know better, he would actually get scared now. Before he remembered who was the boss here, Ivan placed Alina across his shoulders, like a farmer would with a sack of potatoes, and stomped away. No doubt Heartrending tricks helped him pull it off without interrupting Alina's sleep, and Aleksander could only stare after them enviously.
He eventually moved on to his own quarters, but even the luxurious chairs in the War Room felt bare. Researching everything he gathered on Sun Summoners once again felt useless. He couldn't focus, an adult (ancient!) man, fidgeting like a boy. What was even so interesting about these doors that he kept on looking wistfully at? This was the Little Palace, Os Alta, no one would burst into his room to share gossip, insane new ideas or even a piece of sernik-
Alina bursted into his room with her newest sketchbook hugged to her chest.
That was a calming, familiar sight.
What wasn't familiar or calming was that she also wore a cherry-red nightgown that ended above her knee, and that her hair was released from the braid, flowing down her shoulders in dark, shiny waves. They looked decadently soft and Aleksander didn't know if he should gape at them or at her exposed skin. Both options were tempting.
Weak! Weak! Weak! chanted a voice inside his head that suspiciously resembled that of Mother.
The voice wasn't wrong – he couldn't hear a single word of whatever Alina has said since she arrived. Aleksander sighed, stood up, took off his night robe and wrapped it around Alina's arms, hoping she would just put it on without questioning him. As usual, his hopes for her submission were fruitless.
"What's that for, boss?" she tilted her head playfully. He glared at her, trying not to smile. "These rooms are cold. Put the robe on, commander Starkov!"
"I'm never cold," she complained, fanning herself with the sketchbook, but then fidgeted in her chair and slipped her arms into the black, silk sleeves. That was it – she didn't even bother tying it up, only blinked up at him innocently. "Aren't you gonna get chilly?" Alina pointedly look him up and down and Aleksander fought an urge to cover his own pajamas. These were quite thin. "Cheeky," he muttered, before finding a bottle of kvas and two radically small glasses.
"So, the Sun Summoner... Tell me about her." Alina opened her sketchbook with a free hand and began to draw lazily as she listened to him. Aleksander told her everything Vasylissa Grigoryewna - he would NOT call her Vasya - had said, added all the rumors and facts that Genya reported to him earlier, and finally asked Alina what she thought about their Sun Summoner. His Inferni finally looked up from a page that was now covered with a very detailed sketch of Vasylissa.
Alina cleared her throat. "That's all boring facts or suspicions. I want to know what you think." She bit her lip and avoided his eyes. "Was that how you imagined our Sun Summoner? Blond and coy?"
Aleksander sighed and tried to ignore how good she looked in his color, but eventually gave up and reached to smoothen one sleeve and stare at the solar eclipses embroidered on it.
"No," he finally admitted. "I've spent years thinking about them, actually... And I've always thought they would be more like me, but also different and-" Aleksander shook his head. "I don't know why, but I imagined a connection..."
Like the one we have, he didn't add. His job was simple – seduce Vasylissa away from the Lantsovs and into the Little Palace, under his wings. No matter that what he really wanted (what would make him weak but what he was ready for) was to claim Alina as his own once and for all, to bring the world to its knees for her, to have-
"A shared heartbeat that keeps rhythm across oceans and worlds." she quoted* softly and for a moment Aleksander worried she was the first Grisha to develop a mind-reading ability - which would be exiting in all situations except this – before he remembered what they've just talked about.
Hands touched hesitantly but then their fingers intertwined like they were meant to be such.
For a while they just sat there, looking at each other and smiling like sleep-deprived idiots they were, before the clock chimed twelve and broke the spell. Alina groaned. "Stupid otkazat'sya parties... Do they never have to get up before noon?"
He rose with her, never letting go of her hand. Think, Sasha, think.
"I'll walk you back," he nodded, satisfied with himself. Alina shrugged, neither letting go of him, and they glided through the silent corridors, surrounded closely by his shadows. "Must be nice to be able to stroll everywhere at night unnoticed," she muttered with a playful smile.
"Not if you're alone," he admitted before he could restrain himself, but Alina only circled the back of his hand with her thumb and said nothing. They've reached her room when he remembered what he wanted to ask her. "And how was the first time meeting the Lantsovs? Did you enjoy the Grand Palace?"
"Oh, please," Alina pushed her door open and looked up at him gravely. "It's even more disgusting on the inside, but I suppose that so are they. And, really, those awful beards of father and son were the ugliest things I have seen in a while, and I know what you look like after four days in a carriage..." That was what finally made him let go of her hand, for Aleksander had to cross his arms and glare at her. Alina only smiled sweetly, stood on her tiptoes, kissed his cheek, and disappeared inside her room before he could react - or at least get his night robe back.
Aleksander Morozova has been around for hundreds of years. Nations lived in fear of his childhood actions. He played with the forces greater than anyone knew. He was a visionary, a villain and a hero. He certainly wasn't a virgin.
He would not spend this night obsessing over a simple kiss. On a cheek! That he barely felt because of his facial hair.
(He would. Apparently feelings changed everything.)
Meanwhile Alina Starkov fell asleep somewhat content, if a little tipsy, dreaming of shadows and bones.
Little did she know, the events of that night would have a dire consequence.
AN:
we ll go back to the plot i swear/hope/think
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couldn't help myself, "The Star-Touched Queen" has the best lines ever:
"What I wanted was a connection, a shared heartbeat that kept rhythm across oceans and worlds. Not some alliance cobbled out of war. I didn't want the prince from the folktales or some milk-skinned, honey-eyed youth who said his greetings and proclaimed his love in the same breath. I wanted a love thick with time, as inscrutable as if a lathe had carved it from night and as familiar as the marrow in my bones. I wanted the impossible, which made it that much easier to push out of my mind."
very inspiring, for darklina or reylo or... most of my other ships, really