Note: Hi, guys, I'm back from nano recovery (and also Dragon Age...). Also wanted to make a note that I wrote two different, contradictory things about the character of Olaf. It should be on track now.

i.

The wind smacked against her before she had a chance to turn back to Zoya, Alina's mind on Nikolai rather than where it should have been. She remembered, only a few years ago, the kind of power that Zoya had, and the dirty tricks she hadn't hesitated to use during training. It seemed that that part of Zoya hadn't changed.

The hit was sharp, pressing against her chest hard enough that she had no choice but to stumble a step or two back. She tried to ignore that her men were watching her, that at any moment, her carefully gained loyalty could be snapped like a twig. Those were ridiculous fears.

"Pay attention, Alina," Zoya teased with a snide voice. "You might learn something."

Alina growled, straightening her stance again. Her palms glowed. "There is nothing that you can teach me. There never has been."

Words die as she threw a bright spark of her power arcing at the false queen. A screeching fell through the air, but Alina wasn't sure if it was human or volcra. The world, for a single second was blindingly white. For them, at least. Alina used the flash bomb advantage to move through, her eyes adjusting to the shadows on the ground still. While this particular use of her power had the capability of causing her to go blind as well, she had been working with it to find her own advantages.

Her elbow jerked back, fingers tightly balled up. She could end this fast, she knew. She could burn them all up, she could watch Zoya disintegrate into ash. Wasn't that what she had done with Fjerda? Wasn't she capable of killing those for the greater good of Ravka, for the people who needed her protection? Her fist met resistance against the shield of wind that Zoya had called up. It felt like daggers against Alina's skin as she danced away again, the darkness of the Fold crashing back in around them.

Bright blood dripped from her torn knuckles, but she ignored the stinging pain.

She could have used the Cut, but she did not. Alina cared too much, she realized. She cared too much about what it was that Zoya thought of her. She cared about Nadia. And it was absolutely ridiculously, but it seemed like she could feel Nikolai's stare and the flutter of his wings.

It weighed on her chest, and her amplifiers ached as she clenched her teeth and screamed. Zoya's expression shuttered, her face a beautiful, blank mask. Determined. Regardless of how she felt, she was going to keep bottled up while Alina leaked.

The light glowed under her own skin as Zoya's arms waved again, kicking up dirt around them. It slashed at Alina, taking her by surprise. She had been honing her skills as well, but Alina had already known that. The false queen had found a way to mimic both the King and Queen of Ravka's signature ability: she had found a way to sharpen her wind into tiny blades.

If Alina was to win this confrontation, if she were to put Ravka back together, she couldn't let her own feelings distract. She would have to cut herself off. Taking in a deep breath, she steadied herself, stilling the pounding of her heart and the uncertainty of herself. Her men needed her. Aleksander needed her.

Nikolai would need her. He had to. Who else would be there to save him from what he was?

She did not need Zoya, whose words would always cast doubt over the people who listened to her.

When she went for the strike this time, she focused a tiny flash of light in Zoya's eyes, blinding her long enough to land a hard hit. It knocked Zoya off, but it didn't put her out, and before Alina could move, she was already moving in, her fist hitting the queen in her gut. Alina doubled over with a gasp. Zoya had let herself be hit, to get Alina in close.

Stupid, stupid. She was making so many mistakes. She couldn't. She wasn't the same girl she had been so long ago. Maybe she wasn't the soldier that Zoya was, but she was by no means weak.

Zoya's fingers tangled in her hair, but Alina was already reaching up, up, until her hands found Zoya's bare skin. The smell of burned flesh and hair hit her nostrils hard, and Zoya's followers screamed her name. Screamed for her to stop, to run, to kill. Kill the traitorous queen.

Zoya, Zoya, Zoya.

A shot rang out. A rebel fell in a spurt of blood.

They had warned their people not to get involved. This was not a war, but a fight of dominance.

They had neglected to heed their warnings. Alina seethed, but Zoya turned to see who it was that had died, despite the whimpers of pain that she was making, her feet carrying her backwards as far as she could manage. Alina didn't recognize them, and she didn't take the time to care.

Nadia retaliated, but still Alina didn't care. Let them all kill each other.

With a growl, she reached out, grabbing Zoya and tugging her roughly back to where they had drawn their lines. "You-"

Zoya's eyes flashed darkly. There was a rage in there that she hadn't seen before, a madness, a clarity, an ancient thing that had only existed in the phoenix, in the sea whip. In the soft gaze of Morozova's stag.

The air around Alina tightened, and the sounds around them seemed to echo from a far away place. Her words cut off, choked. Zoya's hand was outstretched, fingertips barely brushing Alina's throat, but it still felt like her windpipe was being crushed, that the air was leaving her lungs in a burning trail. She gasped, but to no avail. The wind whipped around her head, precious air that she wasn't allowed to have. Dark spots crawled over her vision, and Zoya's face blinked out of existence for a moment. Or, perhaps, that was her light, slowly dimming out.

From far away, or maybe too close for her taste, the cries of volcra and man rang out around them. With her protection gone, her men were vulnerable. She was vulnerable. Her legs quivered, and she fell to her knees before she could stop herself. Desperately, she tried to summon the sun in her palms, at her fingertips. They flickered in and out like bugs.

And then she could breathe again, sucking it in with a hoarse cry. Zoya screamed, fighting off the monster that had fallen on her.

Nikolai.

"Why would you choose to save her?" Zoya raged. Nikolai was thrown off of her, Alina watching as she panted heavily. "She has kept you this way. She cannot be your salvation. Nikolai. Look at her."

Catching himself, Nikolai scrambled back up, but his silence was deafening.

Her heart crawled up her throat. Nikolai had chosen her. He had abandoned her, and he had saved her. Alina could not begin to imagine why, except that maybe he had seen sense. Zoya could never give Nikolai what he wanted so desperately. His voice, his humanity. She was nothing but a fraud.

Those words drummed against her skin.

Zoya had to be stopped. She would destroy everything. She would ruin everything Alina had sacrificed for.

She drew her arm up, power gathering at her fingertips. The rebel leader turned on Alina, the recognition in her eyes trying so desperately to beat Alina down. A shadow blurred around her, stepping in front of her path even as Zoya pulled a shield around her.

Nikolai stood in her way.

"Move," she ordered him, but he would not.

Shakily, she climbed to her feet again, anger burning away at her.

"Move!"

Her arm moved to slash down, regardless of Nikolai was in the way, and she could see that he knew that. That she wouldn't stop. That he would force her to do to this. With a cry of outrage, her body turned, the Cut arcing a different path, clawing up the ground and kiling a volcra in the process. Or another human. She didn't know. She didn't care.

Zoya tackled her in her moment of weakness, attempting to close Alina off from oxygen once more. But Alina was faster. Alina had learned Zoya's tricks, and she would make up for her mistakes. She thought of the nichevo'ya and of what Aleksander had done to Nikolai and of her own power.

Why kill Zoya when she could punish her that way? Take away everything that made Zoya who she was, strip her of everything until she had nothing left but Alina to hate, to worship, to be forgiveness from? This was all her fault. If she had just listened. If she had just went along with Alina and understood what was best for them all.

A golden orb grew in her hand, and she could see that Nikolai knew exactly what was happening before Zoya registered it, so focused as she was on killing Alina. He grabbed for Zoya, but not before Alina could reach for her open-mouthed scream, before her ball of light slipped past her teeth.

Still, the monster that had once been a prince tossed Zoya aside like a ragdoll. His claws dug into Alina's shoulders, drawing blood as he hefted her to her feet and she miserably sucked for the air that came easily to her again. Around them was nothing but death and blood and the awful screaming of everything she had never wanted.

This has happened before, she thought to herself. Her muscles felt slack, and pain thrummed through every nerve ending.

She could see, from over Nikolai's shoulder, that Zoya was convulsing now, her body glowing as brightly as Alina's skin had done. And she smiled.

Whether or not Zoya lived through her punishment didn't matter now. Her skin would burn up. She would disintegrate. Ravka would be safe.

Thank the Saints, Ravka would be whole.

A scream tore through the air as a bloodied Nadia came for Alina, a blade in her hands. She was so weak, but the Sun Summoner gritted her teeth, waving her hand down as a yellow flash split the Squaller in half.

This death did not bring her any kind of satisfaction. Just a feeling of ache and tired resolution.

Her legs shook as Nikolai pulled her closer.

ii.

When Alina woke up again, she knew that she was no longer in the Fold. The air tasted stale around her, and the ground was hard beneath her back. Her head pounded mercilessly, spots still floating in her sight.

And above her, a shadow fell.

"You are foolish," her husband said to her. A quiet anger burned in his eyes, but it was a welcome sight. To be alive, to know that she had caused him this kind of rage. To know he was angry because she hadn't told him, but that he couldn't be justified in his anger. She was Queen, and she was the Summoner, and she had done exactly what he had wanted done all along: she had stopped the rebellion.

"That is not quite the thank you I had been hoping for her," Alina croaked. It hurt to talk, her throat raw. Her eyelids felt so heavy, so she closed her eyes and cut Aleksander out of her sight. But his presence was overbearing.

"Thank you? For causing a mess? For nearly killing your entire squad. If not for Krasavet, you would have been dead yourself."

Olaf. She he had survived.

A smile curled at her lips. "He is a good soldier."

"He is loyal."

But that was not what had happened, she remembered dully. Because Nikolai had been there, and he had clutched her to him. Not to attack her, but to hold her. She had…

Her lips pressed together, smile dying. Opening her eyes again, she noticed that Aleksander had knelt beside her now. His hands were warm and steady as he helped her to sit up.

"Zoya is dead," Alina told him.

In the distance, she could see the border that led to the Fold, the darkness that had swallowed the world whole. There were so many graves in that place. So many lives that had once been precious to Alina. She blinked rapidly but felt relief when she did not burst into tears. She would not cry in front of this man.

She would not give him the satisfaction of comforting her.

"There is one last thing that we must do," he whispers to her. Aleksander leaned forward, his mouth ghosting over the bruises on her throat.

She made a pleased noise in the back of her throat, despite herself. "What is there left to do?"

"Genya and David must be dealt with."

Alina stilled, a chill freezing her blood. No, not Genya. Anyone but Genya. He had done enough to her. "No."

"They were working with Zoya, Alina. I allowed them to continue in the hopes that they would switch sides, to keep you from being hurt-"

"No!" She shoved at her husband, pushing him over as she climbed to her feet. Her chest heaved with panic, seething at the very idea. "They have not done anything that requires-"

"They are traitors," Aleksander cut her off with his soft words. Sharp, clear, but gentle. As if he were trying to protect her from the inevitable. She didn't believe him.

"I know what you do with traitors," she snapped.

"And I know what you do with them, too." He reached out and took her hand, and Saints save her, she let him. She let his mouth touch her skin with such aching tenderness that she wanted to rip herself open. She wanted him to go away, and she wanted him to stay by her side and never leave. Never go away, she wanted to scream.

iii.

David did not resist.

Except for when they asked about Genya's whereabouts.

Except for when he nearly killed the Darkling with his newest invention.

iv.

Genya had fled the moment the Darkling had left Os Alta, which had been foolish on his part. If he had wanted to punish them both, Alina felt that he should have locked them both away.

She closed her eyes and pictured her friend and her beautiful child. Her sources said that she had been seen leaving with a large man, and without a doubt, Alina knew that Tolya had rescued Genya.

But how had she been convinced to leave David behind?

She sat outside of his cell door the morning before his execution, watching him wheeze for breath. She wanted to tell him that she knew how it felt to not breathe, but perhaps it wasn't the best idea for now.

"I'm sorry," is what she managed to whisper.

"You can still change it," David told her.

Alina had a million questions, but no room to hurt David further.

It was best that Genya was gone.

v.

She wore David's death like another layer.

It made her heavy. It made her angry.

This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. It wasn't. They were supposed to rebuild Ravka. To change things for the better.

And they were, she knew that. But it wasn't right. There was too much missing, too much gone.

Grief choked her, and when Aleksander made to touch her, to soothe her fears away with the power of his words, with his silver tongue, she felt the revulsion eating at her. It burned at her stomach and twisted her lungs and stabbed her heart, over and over again.

vi.

"We still have not found the traitor, Genya Safin," Olaf reported.

Alina looked up from her desk, her lips purses. She hated that word. It was disgusting, tasted like dirt in her mouth. Genya had been her friend, her only friend besides Mal. "She must have gotten out of the country."

"Permission to speak freely, Tsaritsa."

She waved the general to go on ahead. He took a step closer to her desk. "We do not have the time or energy or manpower to continue this manhunt," Olaf told her.

Alina brushed her dry, pale hair back. "I agree. I will let the Darkling know that we have made that decision." She stood up with a sigh.

It had been half a year since David's execution, but there hadn't even been so much a whisper of rebellion, or of Genya, in that time. Had she truly never cared for David, that she could so easily leave Ravka and let him die in her place? If they had both been here, Alina felt that she could have found a way for mercy. She could have changed Aleksander's mind. What were a few more promises, a few more years of her life to whatever he wanted?

For Genya, she would have done it.

And now, Alina was alone. She was feared and respected, but she was alone. She had destroyed the people she loved, and it ate at her.

She had married a monster who only liked to prolong her suffering.

Olaf watched her, his gaze following the lines of her body as she sat on the edge of her desk. She took to looking him over. If Mal had lived, if he had had the chance to grow older, is this the man he would have become?

"Sankta?"

She closed her eyes and wished that he was gone. She wished that she was gone, too. That she was not a saint or a queen or the summoner. Just Alina.

"Go," she finally told him. "You're dismissed."

Olaf hesitated, and it almost made her crack. It almost made her reach for him so she could pretend he was someone different. So she could end his life, too, and rid herself of the temptation. He bowed low, and then he left.

vii.

Nikolai was curled in a corner of Baghra's hut, waiting for her when she stepped inside. She had found him here a couple of months ago, and this was where he stayed.

She sat in Baghra's chair as usual, staring at the empty fireplace. He shifted, claws tapping on the wooden floor. They never talked, and she never stayed for long but today, she could not find a way to leave him.

But today, she looked at him and remembered the bite of his claws and the way he had saved her. The way he had tried to keep her from becoming the same monster that Aleksander was. She thought of the pain of Genya's absence and David's hatred and the tightness of Mal's ribs around her wrist. She thought of Aleksander and of a prince who could charm the world.

Alina slid to her knees on the floor, a choked sob rising out of her.

She thought of Adrik and Nadia, dead because of her.

Her vision went blurry, the world sliding into a mass of shadows. Her shoulders shook violently at the silent sobs, as if she were afraid her screams would bring Aleksander here. He would discover Nikolai, and then she would lose him too.

The monster shifted closer, and she felt Nikolai's arms go around her, his wings folded as if to hide her from the world. And she cried into his shoulder, ignoring the smell of rotting meat and blood.

He held her even after she had stopped shaking, as if he knew exactly what it was she needed. He took his hand and pressed it to her chest, right over her heart. Somehow, impossibly, after these past few years, there was something still human in his gaze. Her hand rested over his heart, feeling the strange beats against her fingertips.

"You left me," she whispered, taking a deep breath. "I can't release you, Nikolai. I can't. Not yet."

Somehow, the look he gave her, he already knew that this would be her answer.

It was a punishment, but it was more. She was unable to make her own monsters; how could she ever reverse something of Aleksander's creation then?