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padfootagain · 10 months

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The Last Ones on Earth (I)

Chapter 1: A Mission

Hi everyone! It’s me! Mrs. No-self-control! Here I come with a new series! The concept is simple: what if the Darkling was a little less alone…

I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

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Pairing: The Darkling x reader

Warnings for the series: mentions and depictions of violence and warfare, mentions of trauma

Warnings for the chapter: None

Summary: You and the Darkling are a team, even if no one knows it. Beyond being a team, you are the only one he trusts, and he's the only one you care about, and you're each other's true love. But if you've kept your secrets hidden for a long time, now that the Sun Summoner is fighting against you, it's time to reveal who you are, and what you are capable of...

Word Count: 5214

Masterlist for the series - The Darkling's Masterlist - Main Masterlist

It’s very dark outside, but that’s okay. You like it this way. After so many years spent by Aleksander’s side, you’re used to the shadows. You find comfort in them now.

You remember when you were a child - such a long, long time ago – you used to be afraid of the dark. You longed for daylight, moonlight, anything to pierce the black veil covering your world. You couldn’t see anything around you, the unknown was a scary place. You didn’t realize by then that the shadows were a hiding place. If you couldn’t see a thing, no one could see you either.

Besides, the dark was a place filled with stories of monsters and spells and evil creatures lurking in its midst. It was evil, against the goodness of light.

What a fool you were by then…

You’ve never gotten used to the sight of the Fold. You should have, it’s been here for such a long time now. Still, you struggle with the view of it as you stare at the darkness by the window: the sharp edges of its unpalpable wall, the shouts that struggle to get out of it, to escape.

It’s a prison, in a way. You want to make it a key towards freedom…

“Are you certain that this is a good idea?”

Aleksander’s voice is deeper than usual; low and cold but you know him enough to identify the worry that’s there too. He sounds almost afraid. You know he’s terrified, actually.

It’s a rare emotion to hear in his voice, and you turn to look at him at the sound. He’s standing in the middle of the room, gaze lost on a map splayed on the table at the centre. You know he doesn’t see any of the lines, any of the names or letters traced in black ink. The light is too low, only a torch and the fireplace, painting strange shapes in red and gold over the furniture, the walls, his tall frame…

You walk across the room, steps slow and measured, trying to be quiet, as if not to scare him away. As if he could ever walk away from you…

You don’t speak until you’re standing by his side. You lean against the table, your back against the wooden furniture, so you can stare at him. He doesn’t turn his black eyes towards you though. He’s too lost in thought, or perhaps he’s fleeing your gaze. You’re not sure. It doesn’t really matter, anyway.

“We don’t have a choice,” you speak in a soothing voice, crossing your arms before your chest. “They won’t let you go anywhere near Alina. But they don’t know who I am. We know they’ve taken Genya and David in. Probably others too. They could want to take me in too. I can try and get closer, close enough to talk with her.”

“And if you can’t convince her?”

“It doesn’t matter. It will give you time to access Keramzin undetected. And I’ll make sure she joins us, whether she likes it or not.”

“She will try to kill you.”

You notice the way his fits clench by his side, so tightly you’re pretty sure it hurts. His knuckles have gone ivory with the strength of his gesture, even if his voice didn’t falter. You reach for his hand, and he lets you slip your fingers between his.

After all this time, it still feels the same. The rush of his amplifying powers coursing through your veins. The callous pads of his fingers brushing against your knuckles and sending shivers down your spine. The warmth of his palm soothing you, making your heart skip a beat…

You know he feels the same. You see it in the way his hold on your hand is tender, in the way his shoulders drop ever so slightly, in the way his gaze shifts in your direction, without looking at you. He’s averting his gaze still. It’s alright. You’re used to it.

“I’ve survived more perilous situations.”

“Because I was here.”

“Don’t take all the merit. I’m incredible.”

He lets out a shaky breath, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. There was a time when he would have offered you a full laughter at that remark. It was a long time ago, when you were young, and too naïve for this world. When you still believed there was a peaceful way out of all this…

“I will be cautious,” you tell him, and your voice sounds like a promise, your tone makes him tighten his hold on your hand. “I will come back to you in one piece.”

“You’d better. Or you’ll have me to deal with.”

“I’m sure I should be terrified of the Darkling’s punishment, but I really am not.”

“You should be.”

You scoff at that.

“We’re alone, you know. No need to play the cold, tough guy with me. I’ve seen you cry before.”

“I’ll cut off your tongue if you tell anyone about this story.”

And his voice is icy, and firm, and serious, and anyone but you would have trembled before such a threatening tone. But not you.

You’re the only one he would never hurt in any way, and you know it. He could kill, torture, destroy, annihilate everything, the entirety of Ravka, of the world even. But not you. You could betray him, you could try to kill him, and he wouldn’t lift a finger to stop you. You’re the only one he wouldn’t punish, the only one he would forgive. You make him weak like that.

And he hates it. He hates it, but he needs this fragility, this one weakness. He must indulge it, he doesn’t have a choice. And you know it, you feel the same about him. That’s why you’re never afraid when he’s around, no matter what he does, no matter what he says. You trust him too much for that.

When he turns to you, at long last, he forces a tender smile to his lips.

“And throw it to a Volcra?” you ask, struggling not to smile too brightly.

“Or one of my nichevo’ya.”

“Of course, for a second I forgot your new minions.”

“You are not terribly fond of them…”

“I know how painful it is for you to summon them. Of course, I’m not fond of them. They’re efficient, though.”

You stare at each other for a while longer. In the hearth, the fire lets out cracking sighs. There’s an owl outside, somewhere, you hear it singing, the voice of a night at its fullest. There are voices in the corridor too, coming inside Aleksander’s room as shushed, barely there at all, only ghosts of other lives. Lives that will never be like yours, or Aleksander’s…

“I will have to tell Alina the truth, if I want to have a chance to convince her.”

Aleksander clenches his jaw.

“You shouldn’t. It’s too dangerous.”

“We’re beyond pondering about risks, I reckon.”

“Y/N…”

“I know what I’m doing. If I want to convince her, she needs to realise that this is not going to work. That none of it will ever work. We’ve tried it before, and it failed, because the world is not going to change, unless we burn it to the ground first. She needs to understand that.”

“I’ve tried to show her…”

“No, you’ve tried to lure her into trusting you too blindly to protest.”

“She’s a child. She will never understand…”

“Then we’ll get rid of her. She’s too dangerous alive if she’s not on our side.”

“On this, we agree.”

You heave a sigh, suddenly tired, as if the weight of many battles fought in the past was suddenly thrown onto your shoulders once more.

And he hates it. Aleksander hates seeing you like this, tired and almost broken. But then again, after all you’ve been through, how could you not be like this? He has lost himself too, along the way. He has lived too long to remain the same.

You’re disappointed for a second when he lets go of your hand, but it only lasts a moment. Instead of your fingers, he reaches to touch your cheek.

You’re the only one he has ever touched so gently, so slowly, so lovingly. He hates it, the power you have over him. But he has never had a choice.

It was always you. It still is. It will always be.

“I cannot lose you,” he whispers, and Aleksander wishes he could add an argument about how useful you are, to at least keep the illusion that he’s not so vulnerable, but what would be the point? After such a long time loving you, it would be of no use at all. “Please, be careful, my love.”

Your smile widens, you can’t help it. It would be dangerous for others to know who you truly are, just like no one can know who hides behind the image of the Darkling. It’s safer if the world doesn’t know about your relationship with Aleksander either.

The Darkling’s wife, that would put one hell of a target on your back. And it would make him unbearably vulnerable too.

That’s why these moments are so rare these days. The ones when he calls you sweet names, and touches you like this, and lets you get so close again. There was a time, long, long ago, when things weren’t so complicated, when you were together all the time, when all you both had to do was love each other. But that type of happiness didn’t last for long. You learnt that lesson the hard way.

You are both Grisha. You were never allowed to be happy. If you want happiness, you need to fight for it.

You lean into his touch, letting him cup your cheek, brush the pad of his thumb across your soft skin. You close your eyes for a second, enjoying the soft caress. You wish you could stay like this forever…

But when you open your eyes again, and fall into his dark eyes, you read too much fear into them to be fooled.

You are both Grisha. If you want happiness, you need to fight for it. And if it means that you must burn the entire world, until there’s no one else left, then so be it.

“I’ll come back to you. I always do. I always will,” you promise him, resting your hand against his heart, feeling its steady beat, the rhythm that matches the one under your own ribs, the rhythm that belongs to you.

He nods, and you can’t help but step into his embrace, but hold onto him as tightly as you can. It takes him a moment to reciprocate the gesture, but he does. He kisses your forehead, sweet and tender and a little desperate.

“Be careful too,” you admonish. “I’ll meet you at the Little Palace.”

“Until we’re the last ones on Earth,” he whispers into your skin, eyes closed, his voice a mantra you’ve both been repeating for years, so many years… It’s almost a prayer.

And you pray too, you pray even if you don’t believe in Saints. You know who they really were: Grisha slaughtered and brought into legends.

What an irony, to idolize the most hated people of this world…

You breathe in deeply his scent: woollen kafta, a bit of leather, something cold like a wintery night. Home.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, and that’s the safest you’ve felt in a while. When you answer him, your voice is firm, unfaltering. A promise, just like a vow.

“Until we’re the last ones on Earth.”

You leave before dawn, it’s safer that way.

You know Aleksander is watching you leave through the cracked windowpane of the room he’s taken as his own, in the deserted house where the Grisha have now taken refuge. You take one last look at the wagon that arrived the previous evening. There are still traces of blood darkening the wood.

Twelve Grisha rescued from a town nearby. Encaged. Beaten almost to death. They were to be killed without much of a trial or any type of mercy. Their crime was existing.

You are used to it by now, but you wish you weren’t. You wish it could still surprise you, that you could still be aghast by the cruelty of it. But you aren’t, not anymore, not after witnessing it again, and again, and again.

It will always happen. You’ve lost your hope for a better world made with peace and harmony a long time ago. You are not so naïve anymore. Instead, you’ve learnt how to kill.

You have a long journey ahead, at least three days of riding before reaching the last-known location of Alina and Nikolai Lantsov, along with their little group. It’s safer if you travel alone, no one will recognize you without your kefta, no one has ever paid enough attention to you for that, anyway. Besides, you’re strong enough to defend yourself. No, you are not worried about the journey that awaits you, you are worried about the negotiations that will follow.

You’ve almost guided your horse outside the lands attached to the mansion, and you can’t help but take one last look over your shoulder. Beyond the large house stands the infinite wall of the Fold. It stretches up to the heavens, loses its tip into the clouds, you wonder if it has any end. From here, it only looks like a dark void: ominous, unforgiveable. It is splayed in both directions too, from South to North, as far as the eye can see.

You can feel Aleksander’s stare upon your frame, and your eyes drift down from the Fold to its creator, to his motionless shape by the window of his room. He won’t move, won’t acknowledge your presence any other way than by staring at you as you leave. You shoot him a smile anyway.

He’s grateful for it. If he never sees you again, at least he’ll have the memory of one more of your smiles…

Ten months earlier

The Little Palace

You had not seen Aleksander in a while.

It wasn’t that surprising, with the new Sun Summoner taking up an awful lot of space and air. She enjoyed complaining too much. She also enjoyed thinking she was righteous. Maybe she was. More than you, at the very least, without a doubt.

You had not seen Aleksander in a while, and so you were surprised when he called for you, sending Ivan to look for you and bring you to his war room. You bid David a good night, leaving behind your messy desk on which you worked on some gloves to help Alina control her powers. A waste of time and energy, in your opinion, but maybe there was a tinge of jealousy that blurred your judgement when it came to her.

You followed Ivan, trying to control your heartbeat into a steady rhythm, so that the Heartrender would not notice how excited you were at the prospect of seeing the Darkling. No one in the Little Palace knew how close the two of you were, and it was better if it remained that way. It could endanger more secrets, some darker and more dangerous than a hidden love story.

Lucky for you, you had been playing this political game for a long time now. You were used to controlling your own heart. And even if Ivan was a talented Heartrender, he couldn’t sense any change in your heartbeat as you advanced towards the door of the War Room, the Darkling’s symbol of a moon in eclipse engraved on its surface.

He opened the door for you, and let you walk inside.

The Darkling was leaning above the giant map set in the middle of the room, lost in thought, considering the next movements of his own troops. He was alone, wearing his usual black kefta although you noticed that his hair was a little dishevelled after a long day. It was nighttime, after all. Dinner had passed, and with it, most Grisha in the Little Palace had gone to sleep, before a new day filled with training and work would arise. Outside, stars were shining brightly, you could guess the blurred shape of their light through the windows on the opposite side of the room.

The Darkling didn’t look up as you stepped inside, didn’t acknowledge you at all.

“Thank you, Ivan. Leave us.”

The Heartrender gave a small bow, almost a mere nod, before turning on his heels and walking outside the room without a word, closing the door behind him. You moved your hands in a quick, circular movement to lock the door.

You relaxed as soon as you were safely alone with the Darkling. Although, he was still hunched over his map as you turned to him again.

He seemed worried, his brow bearing a frown that traced lines across his forehead and at the edges of his eyes. You heaved a sigh.

“You do know that even the General of the Second Army needs to sleep every once in a while, right?” you ask, crossing your arms before your chest.

Your tone was both teasing and admonishing, and Aleksander closed his eyes at the sound.

He had missed you. Saints, he had missed you so much over the past three months. But seeing you alone was too risky for a while. Now though, with your work for Alina’s gloves, he had a perfect opportunity to require your presence, alone.

At last, he stood straighter again, looking up to catch your eyes with his black ones. He tilted his head to the side a little.

“Do I look so tired?”

“You look exhausted.”

“You don’t look so rested yourself.”

You smiled at that, and he noticed the tears that shone in your eyes. He tried not to feel happy about the sight, but he did. You had missed him too… even after all this time, you still missed him…

“Lots of things going on. Lots of things to worry about,” you answered, shrugging. “Doesn’t help that I’m working way too much because of your stupid gloves. You know how grumpy that makes me if I don’t get my beauty sleep.”

He chuckled.

“And how many years have passed since you’ve had one of those peaceful nights?”

You didn’t answer at first. Before that, you took off the leather gloves that you always wore. He was the only one who got to see you like this, with your last bit of armour, of disguise, resting on his table. You were fully yourself before him.

“Two.”

He frowned, searching through his memory. Two years…

He smiled as he figured it out.

“Our journey to Ketterdam?”

“We had a couple of days free then. It was nice.”

“We spent all of those days in bed…” he gave you a smirk, a dangerous glint in his eyes that you recognized, and that made your heart skip a beat, like it always did.

“That’s what I’m saying. Despite your unbearable snoring, I still had plenty of time to rest.”

He laughed at that. It wasn’t one of his bright ones, the ones he used to give you when you met, when you tried to have a life together. But it was a laugh all the same, and you welcomed the sound of it, tried to carve it into a memory.

But too soon, the sound vanished, failing into the air, replaced by the cracking of the fire in the hearth, the soft sound of his breathing, the regular ticking of a clock. There was no sound coming from outside the room, and no word spoken inside could escape either. You were an amazingly skilled Durast, after all. You had prepared, in secret, long ago, some materials only known to you that could absorb sounds.

No eavesdroppers. Aleksander and you could talk without fear.

He clenched his jaw, straightening his posture a little. Coming into a commanding stand.

“There is much to discuss though,” spoke the Darkling in a cold voice. “We don’t have much time…”

But you didn’t let him finish. Instead, you crossed the room, and rushed into his arms.

Aleksander’s arms…

“Y/N… we need…”

“Shut up. We’ll discuss everything you want. But give us five minutes. Just five minutes to be ourselves. Please, darling.”

You felt him tremble under your touch as you called him by this sweet name. Both of you were too used to act distant, like strangers. It was good to be reminded that you were so much more than that.

At last, he wrapped his arms around you, an embrace strong, comforting, safe. Arms that had never failed to protect you, no matter what the world had tried to destroy you both…

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered, your voice more fragile than you intended for it to be, but you couldn’t find a way to care.

You closed your eyes, breathed deeply his scent. The wool of his kefta, a tinge of leather, something cold during starless nights.

Home.

“I’ve missed you as well, my love,” he whispered in your hair, brushing his cheek against your temple, his beard tickling you in a delightful way.

The skin-on-skin contact made the rush of his amplifying abilities course through your veins, but it wasn’t what sent electricity travel across your spine. It was because of the hand he slipped to the back of your head, to press you closer to him, to keep you right there, tugged into the crook of his neck.

You remained motionless for a few minutes, basking in each other’s presence, in each other’s warmth, in the safety of an embrace you had shared thousands of times, so familiar and missed as soon as it was broken.

“Are you sleeping at all these days, darling?” he asked in a soft, tender voice that almost sounded like it wasn’t his own anymore, after banishing it for so long.

You nodded, even if it was almost a lie.

“Just not enough,” you reassured him.

“Nightmares?”

“Sometimes. I’m genuinely busy though.”

“I wish I could tell you to get more rest, but time is working against us.”

“I know. It’s okay. You look exhausted too.”

“I am, but that’s not the point. I think I’ve found the stag, Y/N.”

You looked up at him, not breaking your embrace just yet, but frowning hard.

“Are you certain?”

“Not entirely, but it seems promising. Trackers seem to have found it in Fjerda, near the border.”

“Saints…”

“I know. I doubt it is a coincidence that we finally find Morozova’s amplifier when the Sun Summoner appears out of nowhere.”

You nodded, turning to the map to let him show you where the stag was spotted. He went on for a while about that, explaining you the whole situation in details.

It wasn’t the only thing he wanted to discuss with you, though, and you knew it. You knew him to well to be fooled.

“So, what will you do about Alina?”

You noticed that he was tensing. You felt almost guilty for enjoying this sight of discomfort. But then again, he never tensed, not unintentionally, except in your presence. He could let his guard down with you, he trusted you enough for that.

“You know what I’ve been doing about Alina,” he deadpanned.

“I know. You’ve tried to seduce her.”

“And I am certain that you hate it.”

“You’re my husband. Of course, I hate,” you scoffed.

“It will not go as far as sex, if it is what worries you.”

“Have you kissed her?”

He intensely stared at you.

“Not yet.”

“You’re planning on going that far?”

“Maybe. I don’t know yet. We’ll see.”

Slowly, you nodded, and he hated that look on your face. A mix of rage, of pain, of an anger you tried to suppress because you knew why he was doing this, and you would have been ready to go that far too, without a hesitation.

Still, he understood your reaction. He would have killed the person you needed to seduce instead of letting you play that game.

But you were more rational than him, if not more patient. You wouldn’t strangle Alina in her sleep. Instead, you merely glowered at him.

“I don’t like it. It won’t work,” you mumbled.

“She’s falling for me, already.”

“How did you do it?”

“With the truth. That no one else she knows can understand her. That she will live a thousand lives and everyone else will wither and die. Except for me. I’m her only chance with eternity.”

“I see. Nicely done, I have to admit.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Do you think it will be enough to make her agree to all of this? To use the Fold against Ravka, Fjerda and Shu Han? To kill the king?”

“I don’t know yet. But I don’t see any other way to secure her power on our side. She must believe that she depends on me. Or else, why would she help us at all?”

“What if we told her the truth?”

“The truth?” he repeated, his tone mocking. “Since when are you so naïve?”

“I highly doubt Alina will agree to destroy entire villages, slaughter populations, and draw the world she knows into chaos just for your pretty eyes. Sorry for your charms, but a crush won’t be enough for that. She won’t accept to take over Ravka if she doesn’t realize that this is the only way for us to ensure that Grisha will find peace.”

“You overestimate her intelligence.”

“And you underestimate her stupidity. She is still naïve. She’s a child, Aleksander. At her age, did you believe something as terrifying as the Fold was the only way towards peace?”

He didn’t answer, he merely stared at you instead. You were right, of course. Like always. He knew it was the only way, but Alina didn’t. She had not suffered nearly enough for that. But the two of you?

You had so many years of practice with suffering…

“I have never played with pity, I will not start today,” he spoke with too much pride, and you both knew it.

“But breaking my heart by seducing a stupid girl is perfectly fine to your standards, I see…”

“Y/N…”

“I know that you’re doing this to reach our goal. I understand. It doesn’t mean I have to like it. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to rip her tongue out every time she talks about you.”

His gaze softened, and he held out his hand for you to take, palm up, inviting you into what you knew would turn into an embrace.

“My love, there was never anyone else for me,” he let out in a breath, a tender smile on his lips. “There will never be. But we need Alina Starkov, if we want to have this peaceful life we have always longed for.”

But you shook your head at that.

“You want power now. More than this quiet life we dreamed about at first.”

His hand trembled, faltered, but didn’t disappear. He kept his offering up, hoping you would take it, the way you had always taken it before.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “I’m too angry. I’ve lost too much to want more than revenge now. But beyond it, I still want this safe life with you. The one we have always dreamt about. I want all Grisha to have it too. I won’t deny I’m thirsty for power now, that I’ve left morality behind a long time ago. You know when I abandoned it. I abandoned it the day you died.”

“Almost…”

“You were dead, Y/N. No matter how you want to call it today, you died for several minutes that day. I will never forgive them for that. And I never want to have to feel this way again. If I need to do the most atrocious things to protect you, to protect us, then so be it. I am tired of depending on stupid kings, I want the throne. I want the throne so I can make my own rules and make sure that no one is stronger than me. That there is no one against whom I will not be able to protect you.”

There was also a selfish part of him that longed for power out of pure greed, you could see it in his burning gaze. But you also knew that he was earnest when he spoke such words. He was doing it for himself, but he was also doing it for you, and he was doing it for all Grisha too. There was a time when the Grisha were the most important element, then it was you, and now, maybe it was him. It didn’t really matter. The truth was that he would never act against the interest of the Grisha, and against your safety.

His soul had darkened along the years, like his shadows. But it was still him, looking out through these black irises. The same man you had always loved.

You slipped your hand in his, holding tight, and he reciprocated your gesture in a firm, certain squeeze. Steady. Infinite. A silent promise that he would do all that it would take.

“Seduce Alina, if you think it’s the best way to make her yield,” you spoke at last, holding his stare, your voice firm and decisive. “But don’t sleep with her.”

“It won’t go that far. I won’t need to.”

“Very well, then. Do what you have to.”

“Are you angry?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t be. You’ll have to leave in just a few minutes. And then, I don’t know when I’ll have a good excuse to talk to you alone again. I want to see my beloved wife smile one last time before she needs to leave…”

You snorted at that.

“I’m not Alina Starkov. I don’t fall for cheap lines like that.”

“What about the truth, then?”

He reached up with his free hand to cup your cheek, move his fingers across the soft skin, trace the outline of your jaw with his fingertips…

You could barely breathe at all, and neither could he. His gaze had grown softer, much softer. The way it used to be, a long time ago, when you were still naïve…

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, vulnerable and almost begging for safety. “I always will. There is only us. It will always be just us.”

You nodded, tears shining in your eyes, before you leaned up to kiss him, and he met you halfway. Your lips met and danced in movements you had repeated thousands of times, but they still felt the same. Passionate, reassuring, loving, dependant, desperate…

“I love you too, Aleks,” you whispered against his mouth, right before he leaned in again, deepening the kiss quickly this time.

You weren’t sure for how long you kept on kissing, safely held in his arms. None of you truly cared. All you knew was that when you pulled away at last, it was to whisper against his lips this promise you had made a long, long time ago. Vows that neither of you would ever break.

“Until we’re the last ones of Earth…”

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Taglist: @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic

#the darkling #the darkling x you #the darkling x reader #the darkling x y/n #the darkling fanfic #aleksander x reader #aleksander x y/n #aleksander morozova #the darkling series #grishaverse #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse series #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #series

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grishaxverse · 1 year

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YOU ALWAYS SMELL LIKE WILDFLOWERS

#crying #when I get them it’s over for everyone #ZOYALAI #my true loves #bisexual people winning #zoya nazyanelsky #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #six of crows #king of scars #rule of wolves #kos duology #zoyalai supremacy #Sujaya Dasgupta #paddy gibson #Leigh bardugo #grishaverse #grishaverse series

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heliads · 1 year

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So, Before You Go Masterlist

Completed sequel series to Time Can Heal (But This Won't)

previous series masterlist

Hellas is gone; so too is your life as a cartographer. You and the Darkling must quell Alina Starkov's attempt at an uprising in order to protect the Grisha of Ravka. However, your gods are not as dead as they seem, and that which you have taken for granted will soon prove to be quite unpredictable indeed.

Chapter One: First Call to Arms

Chapter Two: Warnings of a Bygone Era

Chapter Three: Forgiveness is a Difficult Fire to Burn

Chapter Four: War on the Spinning Wheel

Chapter Five: We Are Quiet, and We Are Cold

Chapter Six: One More Body to Burn

Chapter Seven: The Walls Close In

Chapter Eight: Every Golden Age Will Rust

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some-fantastic-kay · 9 months

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by the way I'm lowkey looking for mutuals so if your apart of any of the fandoms I'm in and want to follow me, I'll follow you back :)

#smosh #smosh pit #smosh games #team starkid #starkid #grishaverse #grishaverse series #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone #six of crows #soc #crooked kingdom #paper girls #good omens

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w1shes43 · 10 months

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Grisaverse Masterlist

Jesper Fahey Masterlist

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cherries-and-knives · 3 months

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Matthias: *has one Unholy™️ thought about nina*

Matthias to himself: TAKE A WALK YOU ABSOLUTE WHORE. AND WHILE YOUR AT IT YOU MIGHT AS WELL JUMP IN A RIVER YOU SLUT.

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awwyeah107 · 5 months

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I made this because today has been a whirlwind of fandom news for me (except for the still needing to watch the last 2 episodes of the most recent Loki season...I simply was reminded of that, lol) and this meme was the perfect way to express the overwhelm XD

#zack and cody #doctor who 60th anniversary #percy jackson #pjo series #shadow and bone #grishaverse #six of crows #avatar the last airbender #atla live action #loki season 2 #fandom #multifandom meme #fandom meme #doctor who #loki series

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taurielofmirkwood77777 · 1 year

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Kaz in the epilogue of Crooked Kingdom, watching Inej carve Pekka Rollins' chest:

#six of crows #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #pekka rollins #kazzle dazzle #freddy carter #six of crows duology #grisha #grishaverse #the grisha series #shadow and bone s2 #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone

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crowsmischief · 1 year

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Leigh Bardugo could write 13 books with the Crows as the main characters doing absolutely NOTHING with no real plot other than them hanging out and bickering with each other–and i would buy and rate 5 stars every single one of them.

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multi-fandom-bi · 7 months

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List of crimes Kaz will not do:

1. Sell and exploit women and children

2. Force people to work for him via indentures

All i'm saying is Kaz would violate every law, just not human rights and that's what I love about him

#kaz brekker #kaz actually being a good person >>>>#leigh bardugo #shadow and bone tv series #six of crows #grishaverse #six of crows duology #shadow and bone #crooked kingdom #inej ghafa #kanej

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padfootagain · 9 months

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The Last Ones on Earth (III)

Chapter 3 : A Little Palace

Hello, hello! Here is a new chapter for my Darkling series!

I’m using elements of the plot that come from the books (the attack on the Palace in the second book… with the attack on the Little Palace by the Darkling, which I’m obviously changing here because reader has a good influence…). I know the series changed that part but I found it interesting to reuse that part from the books.

I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

****

Pairing: The Darkling x reader

Warnings for the series: mentions and depictions of violence and warfare, mentions of trauma

Warnings for the chapter: None

Word Count: 3523

Masterlist for the series – The Darkling’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

The Darkling is standing at the top of the hill.

Under a tall oak tree, he stares down at Keramzin. The place where Alina and her tracker used to live, where they grew up, where they met. A place of memories.

He looks down at his palm, the wounded one, the one where the stag’s bone used to sit.

A place of memories… he has many of those, filled with thoughts of you. An old cabin lost in the woods on the edge of Fjerda, a large golden field in Shu Han, the empty halls of the Little Palace at midnight, a river by a summer afternoon, a wintery night spent by a fireplace, the details of your skin across white sheets…

He closes his fist, digging his nails into the wound that won’t properly heal, until it hurts, until it almost bleeds again. A blood darkened by merzost. A blood that isn’t really his anymore.

He has plenty of these sacred places too. They all faded, with time, with fire, with smoke and ashes and tears and nights spent trembling in fear…

“All the children are gathered, sir,” reports Fedyor.

“Are they well?” the Darkling asks in a cold voice, impersonal, but he still asks.

“Yes, sir. They’re all well.”

“The adults?”

“Botkin is wounded, he gave us a rough fight. A Corporalnik, an Etherealnik and two Maternialnik were there too. We’ve talked with them. Two have agreed to help us, the other three are unsure, still. I don’t think they understand what’s going on.”

The Darkling clenches his jaw. He wants to kill them all. It would be easier, it would make an example.

But if you were here, you would tell him to spare them. He can hear your voice speak the words.

They’re Grisha too. You can’t kill them. Give them another chance.

And the Darkling wants to see them all hanged at that tree, at one of the branches under which he stands. But it would be a mistake. You are trying to convince Alina and the others that there are no other way. He can’t be a mere villain anymore. His plan has changed.

“Make sure everyone is healed properly. Botkin fought against us, he can’t be trusted. Make sure he’s under heavy guard, and that he can’t escape. Let the Grisha free to choose, they can come with us, or go wherever they please.”

Fedyor nods, before turning away again to give orders.

And a part of the Darkling regrets his decision already. It doesn’t seem safe, it doesn’t seem punishing enough. Maybe there’s a part of him that’s cruel that screams for him to make them pay for leaving the Little Palace under Alina’s orders too...

But then, there’s a part of him who thinks of you, of the way you say his name, of the smile you gave him that day, on your horse, before leaving to find Alina Starkov.

And for a moment, Aleksander remembers what it feels like to be kind, and the regrets vanish like fresh snow under the sun.

He hopes you are okay. He hopes you are succeeding. He hopes all is fine for you. He hopes, above all else, that you are not making a mistake. You will reveal secrets both of you have kept safely hidden for a long time. What will happen then? When your enemies know what you mean to each other, when they know that you are each other’s weakness and strength alike… Will they use it against him? Will they hurt you to get to him? It happened before, and history has a tendency to repeat itself, over, and over again…

From the hill where he stands, he sees a large group moving towards the road. Children, guided by his soldiers, a mix of Grisha and otkazat’sya. Children who will grow up, one day, in a world he hopes is better for them.

If you don’t come back from your talk with Alina, he wonders if he’ll let them live, if he’ll see the children in them despite his hunger for blood and destruction.

A part of him is not fooled though. If you die, the last glimmer of kindness he has left will fade too. He won’t make a difference then, between Grisha, otkazat’sya, adult, child…

He’ll just destroy it all, until the ones who hurt you are dead, buried, and gone.

Three months earlier

An empty field, near Os Alta

“Alina has taken control of the Second Army, which means that our Grisha will follow her, whether they agree or not.”

Your voice was slow, your words cautious.

By your side, Ivan was biting at his nails, sitting in a chair too small for him, but there wasn’t much you could carry across the country. Your army was quite miserable, indeed…

Most of the Grisha who were following you had been rescued from prisons, from cages, from gallows. They were tired, hungry, wounded, terrified. But they were angry too, and traumatised, and they wanted blood as much as they longed for rest. It was a dangerous combination, indeed.

“How many Grisha are still in the Little Palace?”

The Darkling aimed his question at Ivan, but the Heartrender didn’t have that kind of information. He shrugged, apologized for not knowing.

There were two Etherealki in the room as well. Only five of you to decide what you should do next. You had to step up, after what happened in the Fold, and you knew that Aleksander didn’t like it. It put a target on your back. Still, there was nothing else to be done, you didn’t have the men to act like a tamed Materialnik anymore.

“We must protect them during the attack,” you said, but Ivan shook his head.

“They are traitors…”

“They don’t know that they have a choice. Most of them are still children, or were still at the Little Palace when all went sour. Alina going there first simply means that they had only her version of the story. They probably think the Darkling is dead. What choice do they have then?”

You turned towards the Darkling, his tall figure all wrapped in black, because of his kefta, but also because of the shadows stretching behind him. You were gathered around a small campfire, the golden flames spreading enough light for you to see the features of the Grisha gathered, but beyond their frames, all was dark.

You waited for Aleksander to speak, but he didn’t. Instead, he stared at the flames, lost in thought.

“If we hurt our own, we won’t be better than the people we are trying to fight against.”

That made him react, and he knew you spoke such words simply to draw his attention back to you, back to the present.

He had to be careful with his choice of words though. If you were stepping up in his group of Grisha, no one could know that you meant everything to him, and that he meant everything to you. That you were married. That he listened to you more than anyone else.

If they knew, you would be in danger. No one could know. Even if he longed to listen to you, to discuss the matter only with you, he couldn’t.

He heaved a sigh.

“It is more complex than that,” he argued. “They will probably fight against us.”

“Not if we refuse to fight them.”

All around the fire turned to you. This was a crazy idea. To attack the Palace, try to kill the king and his heirs, capture Alina Starkov… and spare the Little Palace? Refuse to fight the soldiers who were there, and who, without a doubt, would be called to help?

“We will never manage to approach Starkov without fighting our way through the Little Palace,” Ivan argued.

“The General was close to her. Maybe he can try to talk to her, convince everyone that he merely wants to talk.”

“It will not work,” the Darkling shook his head.

“Then we don’t get Alina Starkov, that’s alright. She’ll be on the run, much more vulnerable than she is now. We will have another chance. But if we attack the Little Palace and kill our own people, we will be seen as enemies even in our ranks. We can’t afford to be this way.”

“And so, you would choose mercy, sparing traitors, instead of making examples out of them? How soft,” the Darkling snarled, his tone mocking.

You thought for a moment, the others kept on talking. When silence settled again, you broke it, trying one last argument.

“Then, we can give them a choice. We will spare anyone who takes our side, welcome them into our ranks so they can fight with us. And we will kill anyone who chooses the king’s side. May they be Grisha or not. But we must give Grisha a choice. They must choose to fight with us. If we scare them too much, if we are too violent, they will feel safer with Alina, and follow her instead of you, sir.”

Aleksander almost let a smile spread across his features. You always knew what to say…

But he didn’t. Instead, he slowly nodded.

“Sounds fair enough. Those who were misled by the Sun Summoner will be given a chance to make the right choice. The others will be considered as our enemies and killed.”

Os Alta

Three days later

Night was heavy. The moon and stars were shining, yet they seemed shier than usual. Something in their light wasn’t as bright as they should have been. Shadows were thicker, they clang at skins and frames, they made the world outside the safety of torches and chandeliers unbearably blind.

It should have been a sign for the guards that the Darkling was here, but they weren’t wise enough. Perhaps they were still too naïve, perhaps they were tired. Whatever was the reason, taking them down was easy.

The attack in itself was quick, almost orderly, on your side of the fighting. Breaking into the Palace, attacking the Royal Family… it was easy. It had been made easy by the idiotic Prince who had emptied the watchtowers and fortresses on the road leading to Os Alta…

Your plan was rather simple: Aleksander would take care of the Royal Palace, while you took a handful of Grisha with you and headed to the Little Palace in order to talk with whoever was there.

And you were not disappointed. The remnants of the Second Army wasn’t much to be accounted for, but there were a few dozens Grisha there. When you arrived, they were evacuating the children from the school. You decided to let them go. You already had enough things to deal with.

You were met by a handful of Grisha at the door. It was rushed, messy. Your arrival was a surprise alright.

“Stop! Don’t come closer!”

You recognized the voice instantly, even if in the darkness you couldn’t see his features.

“Fedyor?”

“Y/N?”

His stance didn’t change. Hands touching, his stance anchored and stable. A Heartrender ready to kill…

“Are you alright?” you asked, genuine worry shaking your voice.

“Yes, but… What… Are you with the Darkling?”

“Yes, he’s in the Palace.”

“He’s going to kill everyone.”

“Not everyone.”

You risked to take a step closer, but you noticed the way the five Grisha by his side tensed, and you didn’t dare move further.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

“I’m here to get you out of here safe and sound.”

“You?”

You recognized the voice coming from Fedyor’s right. An Inferni. Salomon.

“Weirdly enough, even Durasts can be useful. Especially when you’re so ridiculously outnumbered.”

“We’re part of the Second Army, Y/N,” Fedyor spoke again, ignoring Salomon’s remark. “We can’t let him hurt the King.”

“The King is not doing much to prevent Grisha from being killed all over his Kingdom, these days.”

“But the Darkling does?”

“He does. He did when he got me out of a cage four weeks ago right before I would be hanged.”

An uncomfortable silence settled on the stairs leading to the Little Palace.

“I escaped as well,” was all Fedyor answered, but he didn’t need to say anything else.

He understood. He had been through the same thing. Only, the Darkling had not reached him in time…

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. Were there more Grisha with you?”

“We all escaped. And then we came here.”

“Good.”

“Alina told us what happened in the Fold.”

“It was a mess, apparently.”

“Is he really going to use the Fold as a weapon?”

“If he can. It seems to be the plan.”

You didn’t want to lie. Not tonight. That was not how you would get people to join your side.

“We can’t let him do that, Y/N.”

“Why not? Would you rather remain here and fight for the King against your own people?”

“Because that’s not what you’re doing?”

“I’m not the one with hands touching now, Fedyor.”

He seemed to relax a little at that. At long last, he lowered his hands.

“I don’t want us to fight,” he admitted.

“Me neither.”

“What’s the Darkling’s plan for tonight?”

“Wreck chaos in the Palace, find Alina, try to convince her to come with us.”

“And if she says no?”

“I highly doubt he will kill her, if that’s the meaning of your question.”

“And if we try to protect her?”

You remained silent for a couple of seconds, letting it hover in the night, so the tension would rise, so it would all seem more frightening when you would speak.

“He doesn’t want to hurt any of you. That’s why we’re here, talking, while he’s busy wreaking havoc. But I reckon we’re past talking about sides now. To me, it doesn’t seem like we have a choice.”

“You want us to join the Darkling,” it was more of a statement than a question, but you nodded anyway.

“He’s the only one who is going to defend us, Fedyor. Alina is not interested in Grisha, she wants power, and she wants Ravka.”

“You’re wrong.”

“She has two amplifiers, Fedyor. And I know she’s looking for another one.”

He remained silent, apparently taken aback.

“She talks about saving Ravka, doesn’t she? Well… I’d rather have us save Grisha first.”

You let your words sink in.

“I’m not saying that the Darkling’s plan is perfect. But I know that he won’t give up on us. And I know that he’ll use the Fold as a threat, not an actual weapon.”

“He’s already moved the edges of the Fold. He’ll do it again.”

“He’s the only one who will give us freedom and safety, Fedyor. Alina may be able to tear the Fold apart, and then what? We’ll go back to our status quo? Until the next excuse to turn against Grisha again? We can’t keep on living like this, Fedyor. And Alina is not strong enough to offer us safety.”

You shook your head, playing with the man’s heartstrings, but it didn’t change the fact that you believed every word that left your lips.

“We’ve tried being gentle before, and it didn’t work. Alina can’t do this on her own. We need to stay together, Fedyor. Maybe the Darkling and Alina can unite, I don’t know… but what I know is that we are Grisha, and that means that no one in Ravka trusts us. If we don’t help each other, we’re all going to die.”

You heaved a sigh.

“The Darkling has secured a place for us. It’s not as fancy as the Little Palace, but it’s safe. We’re tracking Grisha all over the country to rescue them. We’re trying to get everyone to safety while we still can. The Fold is a problem for later. For now, we need to regroup and help each other. Is Alina doing that as well?”

“I don’t know,” Fedyor admitted, and you could see that he was beginning to doubt her.

“Come with us. We have time to decide what to do with the Fold. It doesn’t change the fact that we must take care of each other. And the King is not the one who will give us protection. He never truly did. You are prisoners here. Even if Alina keeps you busy, we all know that the palace is heavily guarded. We killed the guards as we arrived. This is temporary, Fedyor. You’re a prisoner here, you simply have a beautiful cell and the illusion of freedom with walks under the sun. But you can’t come and go as you please, and we both know this won’t change for as long as Ravka doesn’t change. And Alina can’t do that, not on her own, at least.”

You gave the small group a moment to consider your words.

“We’ll give you ten minutes to tell everyone hiding in there that we’re ready to welcome whoever wants to join us. If they want to help Grisha escape and be protected, then they should join our side. If they want to, they can remain with Alina, as I highly doubt that she will want to leave with us. But staying with Alina means siding with the King, and that means we’ll be enemies.”

Fedyor and his Grisha disappeared inside the Little Palace.

Meanwhile, the Darkling had joined you. Wrapped in his shadows, you guessed he had been listening to the conversation for a while.

“Alina?” you asked him in a whisper as he stood beside you.

“She fled from the Palace, she’ll be here soon. How did it go here?”

“Fedyor is gone with our message. He has ten minutes left.”

“If it should come to that… if we must fight our own… stay close to me.”

You couldn’t refrain a tender smile.

“I was about to say the same. You need your old bodyguard back.”

He scoffed at that, holding his dark cloak closer.

“You were never my bodyguard.”

“I have at least three dozens of examples popping into my head right now to contradict your statement.”

“I could say the same about protecting you.”

“That’s why we’re such a good team. Equals work well together.”

You exchanged a smile, but the door of the Little Palace opened, and you focused on the building again.

Fedyor was standing by the door, alone. He talked directly to the Darkling as he recognized him.

“Sir.”

“Fedyor.”

“Sir, do we… do we have your word that if we come with you, nothing will happen to us?”

You glanced at the Darkling, standing tall by your side. So much charisma, a cold sensation of calm oozing from his frame. Not five minutes before, he was killing people and now… now he was perfectly stern, completely composed.

He gave Fedyor a nod.

“We are fighting a war,” he spoke slowly, his words heavy with meaning. “I cannot promise you that you will be safe. But no harm will come to you from me, if it is what worries you. I know that the Little Palace was heavily guarded. I know that most of you must be terrified with what is happening to our fellow Grisha all over Ravka. I understand that you thought it was safer to stay here. And I am certain as well that Alina Starkov had good arguments to make you stay. If you come with us, you will be fully trusted, like you were before.”

Fedyor nodded, slowly. He turned around, seemed to talk to someone, and then he was walking towards you, hurrying down the stairs.

You were relieved as you noticed several more Grisha following him.

“How many decided to stay with Miss Starkov?” the Darkling asked Fedyor as he joined your group.

“About a dozen.”

The Darkling heaved a sigh, but nodded.

“You can’t hurt them,” you whispered to him, making sure no one else could hear you. “Unless you are defending yourself. Otherwise they’ll be too scared of us…”

“I want them to be scared of me.”

“Not the Grisha. Alina, yes. The entirety of Ravka, yes. The whole world, yes, but not the Grisha. They are the only ones we need on our side, but we do need them to trust us. I’ve convinced them by offering them freedom and safety. Do you understand?”

He seemed to weigh his options for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was loud enough to be heard by all the Grisha surrounding you.

“Can you and some of your Durast lock the remaining Grisha in the Little Palace?”

“It will take a few minutes, but yes. It will slow them down, at least.”

“Then do it.”

“And if they try to stop us?”

“Defend yourselves, if you have no other choice. But we won’t be the first ones to strike.”

You exchanged a discreet nod, and you brushed your fingers against his, a tender gesture signifying that you agreed with him. And he kind of hated the way he longed for such an approval coming from you.

He turned to the rest of his Grisha.

“We need to find Alina Starkov. Come with me…”

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Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic @budugu @sayumiht

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling x y/n #the darkling x you #the darkling fanfic #the darkling series #the darkling fanfiction #aleksander morozova #aleksander x reader #aleksander x y/n #aleksander fanfiction #grishaverse #grishaverse series #grishaverse fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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grishaxverse · 1 year

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JUST GIRLS? NO NOT JUST GIRLS

#six of crows #soc #soc duology #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone netflix #grishaverse #grishaverse series #wesper #wesper forever #wylan van eck #wylan hendriks #jesper fahey #they’re husbands

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heliads · 1 year

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So, Before You Go Chapter One: First Call to Arms

Hellas is gone; so too is your life as a cartographer. You and the Darkling must quell Alina Starkov’s attempt at an uprising in order to protect the Grisha of Ravka. However, your gods are not as dead as they seem, and that which you have taken for granted will soon prove to be quite unpredictable indeed.

series masterlist / next

Once, a very long time ago, a girl named Psyche wielded beauty as her power. Envious, the gods foretold that she would be exiled with a monster as her husband. Psyche feared the monster, but soon she realized that he was not the demon others claimed. Still, as he only visited at night when the shadows hid him from her, she was tormented by the idea that he truly was horrific. One night, Psyche spied upon his face as he lay sleeping. She broke his trust, and they were separated until Psyche could prove that she did love him, and wanted no shelter but him until the end.

You wake slowly, painfully, aware of what could have been a dream slipping away from you. For several minutes, you cannot entirely tell if you are still asleep or awake. The air is warm, a breeze blows lazy circles of air across your face. Tell me, child, when was the last time you felt enough peace to trust it was not an illusion?

Someone shifts by your side, and one glimpse of your lover’s face is all you need to know that this is no dream. For all your nightmare’s best attempts, they cannot perfectly replicate his image. Perhaps it is because he is not of their kind, the man you love, but a monster of his own creation. Your people and your spells can only do so much. They cannot fully recreate something of the Small Science, something like him. You would know. Absence made you try.

Aleksander opens his eyes slowly, dark pupils scanning the room until they land on you. Every time he wakes, you can see him start to tense until he sees you again. That is what you get for running so many times, you suppose, it makes him too knowledgeable of how easy it is to lose you.

You were never able to stay away forever, though. The longest the two of you were apart was centuries, and although those cut like a poisoned blade, they ended. You made your way to the Little Palace under the guise of Y/N Stassov, First Army cartographer and good friend of Alina Starkov, and from there on out, you were under his watch again.

In all honesty, some part of you had known from the moment your paths crossed the second time that you would not be able to leave him again without revealing yourself. Sure, your face had changed since you were the Hecari he knew in the past, but he was Aleksander and you were Y/N and you would never allow anything to part you for long. He had made mistakes, and you had tricked yourself into thinking that anyone with as many centuries under your belts as either of you could be perfectly blameless, but you were still the same couple you had always been.

In the end, the result is plain. You showed your hand and the two of you reconciled. Sure, part of that may have had to do with Alina Starkov attempting to murder you whereas Aleksander saved your life, but sometimes love needs a slight bit of motivation to pick up the pace.

The two of you are on much more solid footing now, though. If anything, you will always be united in your wrath, your protective spirit. Aleksander watches out for his Grisha, his people, and you mourn your Hellenids, your kin who have already slipped beneath the sands of time. There is no one like the two of you, and there never will be. Alina can try, but she is young, foolish, full of hopes that have yet to die. Only you and Aleksander understand how time dulls any blade. Only you and Aleksander will ever be able to complete each other.

That does not stop this whole situation from feeling somewhat impossible. You spent centuries running from him, after all, and suddenly waking up in the morning to find him sleeping next to you feels unusual. Good, but unusual. It’s what you’ve secretly been missing since the very moment you left him, but still something you never thought you would experience again.

This change in your day-to-day life could explain why you woke up so disoriented, but in truth, you fear that it might be more than that. It has been getting more difficult to tell what is real and what is fiction. Reality blends into myth into memory. What happens here and now is only a slim shade of an idea when compared to the vastness of past experience, both yours and that of your people, the Hellenids.

You had assumed that the whispering of your ghosts would trickle off into ash and nothingness when the Shadow Fold engulfed you whole, but no. If anything, it just made it worse. You were hesitating on the banks of the River Styx, so close to crossing over into the Underworld, and then Aleksander pulled you back from death and kept you there. You cannot tread that closely to your end without bringing a little part of it back with you.

You are not the only changed one. Aleksander, too, is not the same man as he was when he set out on that sandskiff. As you look at him now, you watch the early light of dawn play on the dark slices in his face, the scars from his time in the Shadow Fold after Alina Starkov abandoned both of you to die.

It had taken every ounce of your combined abilities to make it out, but both of you are changed forever now. You cannot go a moment of your day without hearing the whispering of your ancestors increased tenfold. Aleksander used merzost and is haunted by shadowy demons of his own creation.

You both had dark, deep wounds when you emerged from the Unsea, but when yours disappeared after your natural healing had run its course, Aleksander’s injuries stayed the same. You can sense how they hurt him constantly, even as he tries to hide the full extent of it from you in an attempt to maintain strength. You know him well enough to both guess that he would try to put on a brave face, and can read his body language enough to recognize the stiff movements for what they hide.

His physical appearance matters not to you. He is still yours, the man you loved centuries ago and the one you do now. If the shadows that usually billow inside of him have now decided to carve out a more visible place for themselves, so be it. You only wish that he would not have to suffer so in the process.

That is why the two of you have been scouring the Ravkan countryside in search of Grisha. The practitioners of the Small Science have been left in upheaval after the ill-fated attempt to take back control from the Lantsov king. There are few things in life you despise more than a failing, useless, greedy monarch, and not a day goes by in which you regret that the otkazat’sya fool was not already dead.

He does, however, provide you with a good opportunity to build your ranks again as the elder Lantsov son cracks down on Grisha. You and Aleksander launch venture after venture to save Heartrenders and Healers, Summoners and Durasts and everyone you can find. They’re all terribly grateful to not be dead, which only gives you more allies in this fight.

Of course this will end in a fight, how could it not? You have seen plots like this play out before. Every story runs the same course, even if the players themselves do not realize it until the end. To build a war, you must have soldiers who will die for you. Aleksander will sacrifice himself to save you, but he is one man. You want hundreds.

Until then, you have moments like this, slow glimpses of what could be a far more peaceful future if this all plays out the way you wish it. For now, you are alone with the man you love, and for this brief instance, there is nothing in this world that can bring you down.

Aleksander leans up slowly, carefully, disguising his slow hiss of pain with a question directed to you. “Did you sleep well?”

The question isn’t just a pleasant nothingness. You’ve been having nightmares as of late, snippets of what could either be memories or prophecy. If this keeps up, your mind will start to shatter. You can only hope that you’ll be able to stop that before it happens. Madness and witches do not well mix.

You sigh. “As well as could be expected. I’m still on edge from yesterday.”

Yesterday had almost gone quite badly. A group of two dozen or so Grisha had been chained in a long line and forced into the Shadow Fold at gunpoint by cowardly First Army soldiers. By the time you and Aleksander had gotten wind of what had happened, the volcra had arrived at the scene as well.

You had fought them off, but such close proximity to the beasts had made you uneasy. Everything reminds you of what it had been like in the Shadow Fold when Alina’s light had left the two of you, how the darkness had come swooping in and left you bloody.

Aleksander had called for you to leave them, but you had insisted on saving who you could. You were jittery for the rest of the day, he could tell, but you had sworn you were fine. Perhaps he can see through you a little too well just like you with him.

Aleksander arches a brow now, likely thinking along the same lines. “So will you listen to me next time, my love? Will you let them go when it hurts you, or at least try not to disguise it from me?”

“I’ll make a deal with you,” you say as innocently as you can, “I will stop disguising my torments from you when you stop trying to pretend that those scars don’t hurt as much as they do.”

Aleksander smiles even as a fresh bout of pain turns the expression into a wince. “You drive a difficult bargain.”

“I’m known for being difficult,” you grin.

“Perhaps,” he admits, “but I like that best about you.”

It is easy, on mornings like this, to pretend that all might be well, that the two of you are not fighting a war that could be lost over something as simple as one Sun Summoner somewhere you cannot find. You have no idea if Alina Starkov has even survived, but if she did, you hope that for all the peace you wish to find with Aleksander, she will have none of it with Mal.

You and Aleksander leave your temporary shelter some time later that morning, leaving no trace that you’d been there except shadows in the corners of the rooms that fester slightly more than before. You’d heard rumors that the First Army outpost here was planning on making an example of some more Grisha near the boundary of the Shadow Fold, so that is where the two of you will be stopping first.

As dusk settles upon the area, you and Aleksander arrive upon the scene, lingering back so as not to draw unwanted attention. The two of you are technically still believed to be dead, although you doubt any smattering of soldiers could actually do so much as harm a hair on your heads. You keep your hoods up anyway. It would not do to be revealed now, not before your plan can fully come to fruition.

You narrow your eyes, straining to pick out the details in the dark night. The soldiers have put Grisha in cages, their hands bound so as to not use their abilities. The sight makes your stomach turn. Those blessed with magic should not have to die just because others are jealous of their power.

As your gaze roves from face to face, you see only weariness, fear, desolation. Aleksander had built a marvel of a world at the Little Palace, a place where all the Grisha could practice their gifts in safety. Alina claims she wants to make a better world for the Grisha, but look what she’s done. She ruined the best thing Ravkan Grisha had at peace.

You’ve almost finished scouring the captive Grisha when you notice one particular face stand out amongst the rest. It’s one you recognize, actually. It’s one you’ve been hoping to find for a while, both you and Aleksander.

You suck in a breath. “That’s– That’s Genya.”

Aleksander’s eyes harden. “It is.”

One stray glance his way and you already can guess at what he’s thinking. “We need to get her. Even if it costs us the rest. Genya can find David for us.”

Aleksander inclines his head once. “And David can fix me.”

You make a tsking sound in the back of your throat. “Men fix toys, not gods.”

He looks amused at that. “We are not gods, Y/N.”

“No,” you decide, “but we are the closest anyone will ever get to seeing them.”

Aleksander laughs, evidently pleased. “I missed your ferocity, my little soldier.”

You look at him askance. “You made me a member of your personal guard within two days of meeting me again, even before you knew it was me. I don’t know why you’re acting like this is the first time you’ve seen my ferocity in a while.”

You can just see the shadow of his smile under his hood. “And yet I still didn’t see enough of it. You left, as you might recall.”

“Yes,” you admit in a whisper, “but I came back.”

He takes your hand, interlacing your fingers with his. “I know. You always do.”

It is a statement spoken in complete calm, no trace of malice or accusation. In your eyes, it is the final proof that he has forgiven you, just as you have in turn forgiven him. Like calls to like. The two of you were never meant to be separate for long.

Aleksander turns his gaze towards the captive Grisha once more. The First Army soldiers are watching the Shadow Fold rumble ever closer, and you can feel the terror of the Grisha prick upon your skin like needles.

“Shall we deliver them from harm, then? Shall we take back what is ours?” He asks.

You nod once. This is it, then. From this point forward, there is no going back. Everything in the past was temporary, a step in the right direction without making enough of a scene to commit to your cause. When you save these Grisha, you’ll have enough to start making real changes, to find the people you truly need and hunt down those who have betrayed you. The war will be reborn.

.Aleksander raises his arms in time with yours. Shadow monsters of merzost stalk out of the Shadow Fold, sending the First Army fleeing. Those that run are only met with spells of your creation, which pierce through their hearts like daggers. In her cage, Genya Safin fearfully raises her head, expression changing from immediate terror to slow, dense horror. She knows what the dying soldiers do not: this is only the beginning.

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