Note: Hey, guys! November is coming up this weekend, and that means that it's time for Nano! I'm a frequent participant of the whole crazy thing (since 2008, actually), so I'll be taking a small hiatus from this fic for the month so I can get down and dirty with the original story I'm working on.

i.

Alina chose to not tell her husband about the encounter with Nadia and the summons that she had been given from Zoya. She was - not afraid, but uncertain. He would order her back, she thought. He would come for her. He would ruin this for her, and it was a fight between Alina and Zoya.

She had no doubts about that. This was not something that Aleksander could take from her, and she couldn't risk him killing Zoya before she had the chance to…

Alina wasn't sure what chances there were. It had been years, long enough for Zoya to make it clear that she would not bend to Alina's will. She wished that Genya were here to help her, but the Tailor was back in Os Alta with her family.

And Genya had never made it quite clear whose side she was on anymore.

"Tell nobody," she had hissed at her men as they cleaned the mess she had made. "Especially not the king. You are my army, and you report to me."

It was the soldiers of the Second Army who had agreed at once, but the Grisha were slower to respond.

That night, she took aside the Second Army's general, a man nearly twice her age by the name of Olaf. "Watch them," she said to him. "If they try to send a message to anyone without approval, they are traitors."

"And the traitors must be killed," Olaf whispered back to her before bowing deeply.

War was a strange beast, Alina decided as she walked back into her tent that night.

She would take a small group with her into the Fold. What more would she need in there? Zoya might have thought she could hide out in the darkness, but the dark was as much Alina's as the light was, too.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Alina buried her face in her hands. She still felt so young in some ways, and too old in others. It weighed on her bones, made her tired. She was so tired of this war, of fighting people that shouldn't have been fighting. Would it always be like this? Would Ravka always be at war with itself?

If that were the case, then her sacrifices meant absolutely nothing. She had hurt so many people to fail now.

ii.

There was a time not long ago that Alina had no control over her own power, and it was strange to think that it was only a few years ago. That it hadn't already been a lifetime. She had little power, and then she had no idea what to do with it. Not without help. Not without her friends.

She shuffled through the notes that David had given her, and the books that were almost too brittle for her to touch. That was how she felt right now, while trying to teach herself merzost. The smartest thing to do, as David had suggested, was to ask her husband to show her.

They could learn together, she realized.

But she also knew that Aleksander would ask questions. He would pry. He would take something she loved from her.

Her fingers twitched. What more did she have to give to him?

Nikolai had fled, and that was who she was learning for.

He was forcing her to hunt the dissenters, people who had been her friends. So what did it matter if he took them without her?

Alina had nothing but him.

And he would never take himself from her.

For now, though, she would learn for herself and pick apart what he had already accomplished, and that would have to be enough. She was an apt pupil, Alina kept reminding herself. She had turned the Fjerdan capital into a wasteland. She wore three amplifiers. There was nothing she couldn't do that she didn't set out to do in the first place.

She chewed on her lip for a moment. Part of her wanted to appear before him, not just because she wanted to pick apart all of his secrets, but because -

Leaning back in her chair, rubbing a hand over her face. Saints, she missed him. Terrible, painfully, like something had been torn out of her at his absence. She'd been the one to insist he return home, and here she was, hoping he'd just appear again.

Alina Starkov was not some little girl. She was the Sun Summoner, the Queen of Ravka, a former Sankta. And she certainly didn't need her husband here to hold her hand.

She just wanted him here.

For now, though, she put aside those thoughts, as though she could summon him if she kept thinking about him. He would ruin everything, otherwise. He would twist her ideas, he would take them from her.

So Alina pushed Aleksander from her mind and read when she had the chance, and practiced during the day when nobody would question her light. It was nowhere near precise, not like Aleksander's control.

Even with three amplifiers, all she could really claim was raw power as her own. Even then, it was only through the deaths of others that she could have this power.

The practice did not go well. It never had. She was powerful, but unfocused.

/

"Alina." There was relief in his smile when he saw her, his hand ghosting over her arm.

"I'm glad I caught you alone, or else this would be awkward," she said with a laugh. It had been only a few weeks, but even seeing him like this was enough to release the pressure that had been building in her chest.

He could see that, she noticed, with the way his eyes lit up, with the curve of his possessive smile.

"I wouldn't have cared." His hand slipped to her waist, before he pulled her against him.

It was real, but not real enough. She wanted him to touch her, but now wasn't the time. She slid out of his grasp and ignored the hurt look he shot her.

"You're not here for the pleasure of seeing me, though," he quickly gathered.

She lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. "I've missed you," she told him, because it was an easy enough admission that would put him at ease. And because it wasn't a lie. That was probably the part that made him accept it instead of questioning her. There were no daggers in her hand this time.

"But there's something else you need from me." Aleksander clasped his hands behind his back, walking slow circles around her. Alina kept her head forward, barely even following him with her gaze. Let him feel as though he was cornering her, pinning her down until she broke.

She was weak against him now, it was true, but she wasn't spineless.

"The nichevo'ya," Alina breathed softly. She watched as he paused in front of her, dark brows crawling high on his head. "How did you discover how to make them?"

"But don't you know already?" A smile tugged at his lips, but it was cold, thin. "Your power is my power. My power is yours. Don't you already know my secrets?"

Fear and anticipation curled in her gut. He couldn't hurt her, and she couldn't really hurt him, not in this state. But when they ended up together again, she would have to find a way to quell the monster again.

There were a million ways she could go about this, a million routes that Genya or Zoya or Tamar would take.

Alina was not charming, smooth, or upfront enough to begin to emulate the few women she respected the most.

Her fingers danced along his jawline, and he leaned into her touch, like she knew he would. "They are mine, but that doesn't give me the knowledge of what I need." Her finger tapped gently at his temple. "You know, though."

"We've established that."

"What I mean is, why have a partner who is the same as you are, that you want to rule with as an equal, and yet keep that knowledge from me?"

His eyebrow arched. "You know the answer to that."

"I have no blade in my hand."

"Not now," he agreed. Taking her hand in his, he kissed her palm. "But every marriage needs its secrets. You have plenty of your own, Alina."

iii.

"Send this message to their camp," Alina said. She handed the sealed envelope to Olaf.

He was trustworthy.

He was expendable.

The letter slid into his saddlebag, a grim look on his face. "You are meeting with her, then."

Her jaw clenched. "Yes."

"Is this wise, Sankta?"

It had been so long since she had heard that title directed at her out loud, that Alina almost didn't register it. It dawned on her slowly, creeping over her skin with a level of uncertainty.

"You-"

"I am not a rebel," the young soldier hissed at her from under his breath, before any of the others could take an interest in the situation. "You are my queen, Sankta, and I fight for what you believe in."

"I'm no saint," Alina said sharply.

The grin he gave her was so reminiscent of Mal, that she almost killed him then and there. Letting this boy get close to her was the worst idea she had had, and Alina could say that she had plenty of those recently.

"Isn't that what a saint would say?"

And then he was off to deliver her message.

They would meet in the Shadowfold within the week.

iv.

Olaf accompanied Alina into the Fold, as well as a few other select soldiers from both armies. She wanted to show a united front to Zoya and her band, that she was not a traitor. She had united the cause.

Alina stood in the middle of the skiff, her light enveloping them brightly as they moved slowly from the wasteland. Her soldiers were terrified, but she couldn't blame them. Long ago, she had been afraid, too.

Long ago, she had used her power to save Mal.

Nothing good ever came from entering the Shadowfold, and she couldn't understand why Zoya would put her base here. It was clever, of course. Aleksander and herself wouldn't have ever expected it.

She grit her teeth. Zoya must have been using David's technology that Aleksander had used once, so long ago and yet not long enough.

Her fingers twitched. She wasn't ready for this conversation, hadn't perfected her techniques at all yet. She would swear the army to secrecy and walk away if Zoya only wanted to chat.

Alina had to bite back a snort. Right, Zoya only wanting to sit down to a cup of kvass and catching up. That was as likely to happen as Mal coming back to life.

She could only hope to convince the Squaller to stand down. To continue negotiations. Just long enough for Alina to perfect her merzost. In a perfect world, Zoya would even consider laying her arms down, and Alina was sure she could convince Aleksander to bring the wayward back into their fold.

Olaf took an uneasy step toward her as the screams of the volcra echoed around them. "Tsaritsa-"

"Don't worry," Alina said easily. The faint echo of a smirk was on her face. "I'm much better at this than I used to be."

His face paled considerably, brown hair fluttering in the breeze made by the skiff. "Yes, ma'am. I trust you."

"I hear a but coming on."

"I don't trust them. Anyway without your abilities would be crazy to come into the Unsea to set up a camp," the soldier hissed under his breath.

"That's the genius of it," Alina muttered dryly. "And I wouldn't say that Zoya is all that sane."

Conversation died then, leaving all of them in an eerie silence nobody was brave enough to break.

It felt like hours before they finally reached the ruins of Novokribirsk. In only a few short years, not even yet a decade, the city had definitely become what could be called a husk. It was as though the darkness weighed too heavily on the foundation of the city. With the sweep of Alina's power, she could see the crumbling buildings, the broken glass, the dark smears that marred wall and road alike.

She tried to not think about whose blood this was.

She remember that Zoya had mentioned having an aunt here once, that if she had known what the Darkling had been planning, she'd never have gone along. Or at least, she would have warned her family away. It made sense, in that vague sort of way, that Zoya would come here. That Zoya would make Alina come here, to face her own guilt.

Because it had been her power, and the antlers that now hung heavier than usual around her neck, that had caused this city to wither like a flower without the sun.

"No sign of the dissenters," a Heartrender called out to them.

Somewhere, high above, a shadow scurried.

"They can't be hard to find," Alina said in return, unperturbed by the lack of Zoya's appearance. "In order to stay here, they'd need the light."

Now she felt burdened by her handpicked army. If she left them, they would fall victim to the volcra, but she didn't want to feel bogged down by their presence. Taking a deep breath, she wondered what Aleksander would do in her place.

He wouldn't have come, was her first thought. Not a very helpful one.

Beyond that, though, if her husband had chosen to be as foolish as she was being now, he would wait. She was, after all, Queen of Ravka. She was the Sun Summoner. Sol Koroleva.

So Alina took a seat on the skiff, turning up her power so that it lit up this portion of the city. Human screeching filled the air in such an awful cacophony, that she nearly puked. It had been a long time since Alina had stepped foot into the Fold, and she had so many other screams to fill her nightmares these days, that she had forgotten the very real and human nature of Aleksander's monsters.

"So we wait," Olaf said below the sound, the only one who hadn't visibly flinched at the volcra.

She watched him with a discreet stare, wondering how it was that she could find a man who was so like Mal that it hurt. And if she wished to keep him in her army, she could never let Aleksander know who he was. An easy enough task, since he refused to have anything to do with the new Second Army.

"Movement!"

"I count at least four."

Alina continued to sit, crossing one leg over the other. She had to force herself to look relaxed, even though her entire body buzzed angrily.

The small group was led by a single person, who held a small, portable light in her hands. It flickered, but the woman didn't look nervous about her light. She trusted it would hold.

Alina clenched her jaw.

Zoya trusted David's work, as they all did.

The group stopped by the skiff. Zoya tilted her head, chin jutted out as if she could look down her nose at Alina. And somehow, impossibly, she managed to do so. So Alina rose, black kefta falling back in place again.

It didn't escape Zoya's attention, who looked her over with contempt. "Alina, so glad you could join us."

"I wish I could say the same for you, Zoya." A scowl wove its way onto her face.

Zoya tossed her head, dark curls bouncing over her shoulder. Somehow, even is this desolate place, she was still beautiful. As if war and darkness couldn't keep her down.

She should have been a queen, not Alina. And yet she was. She would have to act it. To keep her country together.

"Come home," Alina found herself saying. All eyes were on her, as if they couldn't believe that she was the one saying this.

She couldn't believe it either.

"There is no home for me in Os Alta, not when the Darkling sits on his stolen throne," Zoya spat.

A flutter of movement outside of the light drew Alina's attention. She shouldn't have looked, but she was drawn to it, as if the darkness was calling out to her. She shouldn't have taken her attention off of such a threat but she did.

Nikolai stood there, near Zoya but not too close. His fingers were clenched, his claws digging into the palms of his monstrous hands. Wings flexed, making her men wary. But his eyes, Saints, she had forgotten about his too human eyes. They stared into her soul and judged her.

Alina glowered. "So this is where you went."

A smirk flickered at the corner of Zoya's mouth. "He knew a real queen when he saw one." She was quiet for a moment. "He knew what we have always known, Alina. The Darkling cannot live."

"He can!" Alina argued with a sharp yell. "Haven't you seen the work we've been doing? Haven't you seen what I can do?"

"I've seen that you would rather worship at his side than to fight for what's right. I already told you, Alina, I won't live in the darkness."

She was exasperated, a chill to her voice. "How can there be darkness with me at his side?" A small globe of light formed in her hand, bright and yellow and soft, as opposed to the light she was keeping over her skiff.

A growl came from Nikolai, a warning sort of noise. A warning for who? For which queen?

"We've all seen what you are willing to do with your power, Alina Starkov." Zoya leveled a finger at her, accusatory and harsh. "You lay waste to Fjerda on his orders, and you didn't even blink an eye."

"They were our enemies. They hurt Grisha. Zoya, you should-"

"The Darkling is our enemy!"

Cheers rose from the small crowd at Zoya's side, even while Alina's own men shifted behind her. A rifle cocked, lost in the sound of cheers. The flicker of fire appeared out of the corner of her eye. Her army was ready for a fight, to die for Ravka and its king.

"I'm your enemy?" Alina asked.

Nadia stepped up next to Zoya, wedged between her and Nikolai. Dark circles covered her eyes, cast deeper by the light her leader held. "Yes. How could you not be, Alina? You killed Mal, and then you went to warm the Darkling's bed. You abandoned everything we fought for. You disgraced the sacrifices of the dead who got you where you are." A choked sob caught in her throat. "You tortured my brother, the same one you saved."

The sting of Adrik's death was still an open wound for Alina, still haunted her. She carried him like a ghost on her back, his weight just as heavy as Mal's. As Baghra's. Her gaze fell on Nikolai, and she knew it was his weight that she carried, too. That she would continue to carry it with his betrayal now.

"You declared yourself an enemy when you did not sink your blade into his chest," Zoya said softly. For the first time, Alina could see the hurt in her once friend's face, the utter pain of Alina's betrayal, of what this fight was going to be.

All at once, Alina understood. There would be no way she could convince Zoya to come home. That she had gone mad with the power that Alina had left behind when she became queen of Ravka. Zoya truly thought herself a replacement for the Sun Summoner, and Alina didn't know how she could help her in that case.

"I'm willing," Alina began, "to give you all one last chance."

This time, she turned her gaze on the small group. It was them that she was addressing. They had been taken in by a charlatan, by a woman masquerading as some sort of savior. But there were no heroes in Ravka - except for Alina herself, who had tempered the beast and begun to heal her country.

"Renounce your loyalties to Zoya and her propaganda, and the only one who will be charged with treason today will be Zoya herself."

"I will never betray the Veterok Koroleva," Nadia spat. Alina had already assumed that. Adrik's death and time in hiding must has stiffened Nadia's spine even more, and Alina wasn't sure if she was too bothered by her loss.

But the others - they deserved a chance.

"Does Nadia speak for you all?"

Zoya did not look back at her people, but kept her blue gaze on Alina herself. She didn't even look worried, much to Alina's chagrin. And she supposed she didn't need to be. None of them spoke. None of them turned to one another as if wondering who would break. They watched Alina with the same stony silence and unnerving flicker of light in their eyes as their chosen queen did.

Alina turned to look at Nikolai again, but he had slipped into the shadows as if he knew the fight that was to come.

She wondered who it would be, in the end, that he'd protect.