#* canon: ulla morozova

[needcurse]

{ * ALT. VERSE; ULLA MOROZOVA ✳ . . . songstress of os alta, the sister of the shadow, a woman who once belonged to the waves

INTRODUCTION,

once a sildroher from the furthest reaches of fjerda. ulla morozova was the abandoned child of baghra left to live out her life beneath the waves in the depths of the isenvee. she was a gifted songcaster but not well loved in the undersea court as she was seen a strange and foreign creature given her ashen appearance. she only begins to gain the favor of the royal family when she begins to write spells alongside the favored court singer, signy. through their friendship ulla is able to join the chorus and royal family on land to walk amongst the humans.

it is in this castle by the sea that ulla meets her brother, aleksandr who reveals to her the truth behind her lineage. ulla is half-human and her health and appearance greatly improve after splitting her tail to walk on land. aleksandr entreats with her and asks his sister to join him in his game of kings and queens. at first, ulla has no interest in the treatment of grisha on land as she had lived amongst the ocean-folk for the whole of her life. although, the longer she strays from the sea the more her shadow summoning abilities become prevalent. she needs a tutor and she agrees to join her brother on his travels. she never returns to the sea with signy and the others and thus she endures the trauma and destruction her fire enchantment brought upon the royal family.

SETTLING IN OS ALTA,

year pass and the two siblings have established their positions amongst the royal family.    it is rumored that shadow summoners are always born as a set of twins,    this is a ruse both aleksandr and ulla given into.    they have decades between them but their youthful faces and like appearances suggest they lend themselves to this narrative.    all the more favor to make both seem mythical as it is common knowledge that they are the ancestors of the supposed "black heretic".    during the time,    like her bother,    ulla takes on a pseudonym and is called ursula after the saint of waves.    little does the public her and the saint are one in the same.    

during the events of the original trilogy,    while aleksandr is the leader of the second army ulla takes upon herself to establish a foothold for grisha in religion.    she is a song leader at the palace chapel and she works closely with the apparat both in and out of services.    she plays the role of the pious witch in repentance speaking often of the fold and how the time of "sun" will be upon them soon.    she often tells the story of her namesake and how she was a woman of faith punished for her belief in the saints.    although,    it is not her preaching that gains favor amongst the masses.    her song can convince even the most vehement non-believers of her cause.    

by all intents and purposes she is not viewed as soldier.    she is more widely recognized as,    the dark jewel,    in the queen's retinue.    she is a symbol of faith as well as a prized asset to the royal family.    she is frequently seen at banquets wielding a harp and the deep,    richness of her voice.    she may not be part of the army but her song has swayed many a politician into complacency and the sky seems to shift whenever a melody leaves her lips.    more omen than weapon but no less of a threat for it.  

PERSONS OF INTEREST,

» the apparat: by the nature of their work these two work quite closely together.    their alliance can be described as tenuous at best.    both are playing the same game and they use religion as a means to gain influence in the capital.    they portray an image of a unite front but more often that not the two at odds with one another but cannot make a direction move opposite given the optics of a open quarrel.   

» the darkling ( @greeksmyth ): twins are often seen as parts of a matching set,    yet despite ulla and aleksandr's like appearances they occupy different political spheres in the capital.    their quarters are adjacent to one another though and they take meals together away from the other summoners more often than not.    ulla is overall less of a mysterious figure than her brother as her occupation as a musician sweetens people to her presence more than that of general.    this a frequent fact she lauds over her brother and they bicker often about as brothers and sisters do.   

» baghra: ulla and baghra scarcely have a relationship.    despite the years ulla has never forgiven her mother for abandoning her.    it was aleksandr alone that swayed her to come to ravka in the end.    she visits baghra's hut infrequently and they speak as strangers do.    no one would believe the old woman and the songstress were related given how sour they are in one another's presence.    because of this,    it was aleksandr who trained ulla when she was beginning to summon shadows.   

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

Do you think Aleksander managing to find companionship in any long living sibling would have changed anything at all? Eg Ulla lives for a long time.

Hmm hard to say because I think it would hinge on what his dynamic would be with the sibling and how that does or does not shake up his dynamic with Baghra.

Ulla is interesting because she didn’t grow up with Baghra, so she has wildly different values, which might be good! But also growing up separately means they don’t have much of a formative bond, and from what little of her personality we know about from the Language of Thorns, she seems prickly and independent. And she certainly didn’t jump at the chance of going with Aleksander when he offered! Therefore, even in a scenario where they interact as family, I think it’s just as likely they just randomly come across each other like once every couple decades lol so it’s not going to be much in the way of companionship. So I feel like he’d probably eventually wind up in the same place in that scenario?

Generally I don’t think he’s the sort of person where a single positive relationship would fix him. Both because Baghra already exists, and that didn’t solve anything at all, but also because he already has a pretty firmly entrenched “us unique few who matter vs those statistics on a page who’ll be dead in the blink of an eye” mindset. So a single sibling wouldn’t really alter that worldview, unless like very unique circumstance where they’re both older, and have had the opportunity to develop values outside of Baghra’s perspective, and they’re present during his formative years. And that’s still a toss up imo! But anyone who’s younger, also isolated, and either only has Baghra’s perspective, or like Ulla shows up way later, just isn’t going to meaningfully change his worldview, and therefore how things eventually end up.

(Unless you mean changing things in terms of him having an additional enemy or ally during the canon era, which, again, too many variables to even begin to consider.)

I’m very much not a Baghra hater, and I think Darkling stans get really weird about her! But it is true that pretty much most of his Problems (i.e. his personality) stem from how she raised him, what values she instilled in him, and the formative circumstances of them being so isolated and afraid of everything and everyone all the time. So I really think the only sort of relationship that would fix him is one found outside of his family unit, and preferably before he’s had centuries to calcify into uh… who he is.

Which makes the KoS introduction of other Saints really interesting! Because you’d think they would offer any sort of community for him. But a) KoS is not real to me, B) seems highly likely that the Saints were so fucked up and also so wildly uninterested in the rest of the world/the plight of Grisha that he eventually found them repellant.

Anyway, I think any sort of formative, actual community could’ve fixed him… DitW where Annika doesn’t try to kill him lmao. But also his character hinges on the concept of continued isolation, betrayal, and loneliness leading to insane ruthlessness of centuries. So like he’d need a string of good luck with people who might die eventually anyway, or at least some immortals that both don’t suck and aren’t Morozovas.

[ullaofthewaves]

ULLA MOROZOVA [MOBILE BIO]

canon-divergent, headcanon-based. est. march 2022

FULL NAME: ULLA MOROZOVA NICKNAMES/ALIASES: URSULA, SENJE ULLA OF THE WAVES, SEA WITCH, SORCERESS, THE TEMPEST, THE DREAMWEAVER, THE FORSAKEN ONE, QUEEN OF THE FORSAKEN PRONOUNS: SHE/THEY AGE: A LITTLE YOUNGER THAN ALEKSANDER MOROZOVA EYE COLOR: SILVERY BLUE EYES / DARK BROWN WHILE POSING AS A HUMAN HAIR COLOR: DARK HAIR WITH SILVER HIGHLIGHTS UNDER THE MOONLIGHT SPECIES: SILDROHER/HUMAN ABILITIES: SONGCASTER & GRISHA SHADOW SUMMONER RELATIVES: BAGHRA (BIOLOGICAL MOTHER) / ALEKSANDER MOROZOVA (SIBLING) / DECEASED UNNAMED SILDROHER FATHER / DECEASED UNNAMED ADOPTIVE SILDROHER MOTHER PARTNERS:  SIGNY AND ROFFE PLACE OF RESIDENCE: ICE CAVES OF THE NORTHERN ISLAND OF FJERDA 

They told you the story wrong. Roffe, Signy and I weren’t friends, like they say in those books. And we were not poor commoners manipulated by a pretty prince either. We were inseparable. The three of us. I loved them. Enough to kill for them. Enough to take a human life and breathe the eternal flame into existence so they could have their fairytale, so he could be king and she could be his queen. And I—— well, at the time,  it didn’t seem to matter who I would be in the end. I didn’t care for power nor for the crown. I cared about music, knowledge, adventures and them. They were the constant. No matter how I would wander, they remained my anchor. Everything else would fade eventually. But their love—their love would last, or so I thought. 

They’d swore they’d love me through it all and I believed them. But when another power burst out of me, when the truth of my true heritage came out of the shadows (literally), I saw nothing but fear in their eyes. And when I foolishly thought they’d come around, that they’d accepted who I was, that their love was truly unconditional like they had said, they left me for dead on land. Once I recovered from the wounds they’d inflicted me, I summoned the most violent storm ever known to this world and shattered their pretty little kingdom to pieces like they’d shattered my trust, my heart. I built my own palace in caves of ice and welcomed poor unfortunate souls into my embrace, making all their dreams come true as long as they were willing to pay the due cost of my benevolence.    

[goatsandgangsters]

peak Younger Sibling Energy that ulla gets away with destroying half the coast of fjerda and still gets worshipped as a saint, while aleksander is stomping off to his room like "no FAIR, it's only one little wall of shadow, I can't do ANYTHING without it getting called heresy"

[videogamelover99]

No one, absolutely no one:...

My brain: Tamar X Ulla

[marvelmusing]

In Another Life

Part Thirteen

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Alternate Universe!Reader

Summary: Slowly the pieces of your plan for the Fold come into place, but thoughts and fears of the future continue to haunt you.

Warnings: nightmare (featuring death and angst), mentions of canon level violence, references to RoW duology and the Language of Thorns (canon has officially been put in the blender, sorry Leigh Bardugo but the narrative is mine now)

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist • Next Part

“I’ve remembered something else about the Fold.” You say, your brows scrunched together as you think.

Aleksander hums in response from where he’s sitting in the armchair beside the bath in your room. Bathing was the only time you ever really used your own rooms.

At first, Aleksander had been bewildered by your insistence on bathing privately, without the help of any servants. Now that you were closer with one another, you didn’t mind Aleksander helping you.

He was always respectful about it, and he had already seen you battered, bruised, and delirious. After all that, bathing didn’t seem too intimate anymore.

His kefta and tunic had been hung over one of the chairs in your bedroom, leaving him in a white shirt and dark trousers. When he had offered to assist you, he had rolled up his sleeves to reveal his forearms.

You shake your head suddenly, your cheeks flushing with warmth.

“I’m sorry.” You say, and Aleksander frowns. “I feel like we only ever talk about our plans or the world ending.”

“That’s not true.” Aleksander argues softly as he scoops up a handful of bath water to rinse the soap from your back. “Just yesterday we walked through the grounds and discussed the gardener’s flower arrangements.”

A smile tugs at your lips.

With Aleksander managing both the First and Second Army after Zlatan’s arrest, you’ve both been particularly busy. Quiet moments where you could walk through the grounds were a rarity, but you still worried that you might bore him.

“I’m sure you found that conversation riveting.”

“I like hearing you speak your mind.” He assures you. “It’s certainly a change being able to talk with someone about all manner of things.”

“You have siblings, don’t you?” He hums quietly in confirmation. “I haven’t read about any of them, but I’ve heard of Ulla.”

No doubt Aleksander can hear the unspoken questioning in your voice. The corner of his mouth lifts and his eyes soften, the early morning sun casting a warm glow over his features.

“We see each other once every few hundred years.” He tells you. “What have you heard of her?”

“I know she’s a saint, and some sort of mermaid.” Aleksander raises a brow, confusion in his eyes.

“Mermaid?” Your own brows crease lightly as you think over his reaction.

“You must have a different word for it here.”

“She’s half sildroher.” He offers, and you mouth the unfamiliar word over your tongue carefully. “She was born with a tail.” Aleksander tells you softly as his fingers trace over the surface of your bath water. “Baghra gave her back to her father not long after her birth.”

“How did you find her?”

“There were rumours that the sea whip inhabited the waters closer to Fjerda. I was working as an apprentice there when she visited the local king.”

You nod slowly, hands scooping up the frothy bubbles that had formed at the surface of the bath water, gliding slowly over the sweet smelling liquid like an iceberg on the sea.

“What’s she like?” You ask softly, smoothing the bubbles over your arms and watching them as they slowly dissolve into your skin.

“Independent, fiercely loyal, though it takes quite some time to earn her trust.”

He dips his hand into the water, before he runs it along the length of your arm, clearing away the soapy bubbles.

“You sound quite similar.”

“We look alike.” The corner of your mouth quirks, and you can’t help but tease,

“Have you been hiding a tail from me?”

He smiles widely and a boyish twinkle of amusement sparkles in his eyes.

“What was it that you remembered?” He prompts, as he stands to retrieve a towel for you. “About the Fold.”

“I think there’s a way to mend the tear at the making.”

He raises a brow at you as he opens up the towel, white with a delicate golden hem, and you step out of the bath. Aleksander wraps the towel around your body, and you begin to pat yourself dry as you explain.

“There’s some sort of relic. Named after one of the saints, and it’s believed that it could repair the making.”

“What is it?” At his question, you falter.

“It’s named after Sankt Feliks, I think.”

The two of you walk into your bedroom, and Aleksander lounges back against your headboard as you move behind the wooden screen to dress.

“Do you know his story?” Aleksander asks you.

“Would you tell it to me?”

“He’s known as the patron saint of horticulture, due to his rather gifted tending of his monastery’s orchard. His crop grew even in the harshest winters, and the people accused him of witchcraft.”

“Instead of realising that he could help with their crops as well?” You remark, stepping out from behind the screen once you’re fully dressed.

Aleksander hums knowingly in response to your words.

“He’s said to have been skewered on the trunk of an apple tree.”

Your eyes widen, and sympathy fills your face as you sit at the end of your bed, pulling your boots on.

“Though anyone who knew Feliks would know that it was likely a thornwood tree.” He adds, and you nearly drop your boot.

“Thornwood?”

An ache seizes your chest, and flashes of future events swirl through your mind. The thornwood tree tucked away in the mountains. Aleksander’s painful sacrifice, to suffer for eternity in order to mend the tear at the making.

Tying up your laces with harsh motions, you try not to dwell on such thoughts. They only make you sad, or angry, which won’t help save Aleksander.

“Something’s upset you.” Aleksander observes quietly.

“It’s nothing.” You insist.

Standing quickly, you move over to your vanity table, looking out of the window to stare towards the summoners’ pavilion as you try to push away your emotions.

Aleksander calls out your name softly. When you turn he’s sitting up at the side of your bed, with his hands outstretched towards you. Taking a step forward, you accept them.

“It will be nothing.” You assure him as he pulls you to stand between his legs. “It hasn’t even happened yet.” Then your expression hardens. “And I will not let it happen.”

Releasing one of his hands, you curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Aleksander’s voice is a near whisper as he says,

“Whatever it is. You don’t have to face it alone.”

You shake your head.

“I’m not alone. I have you.”

»»---------------------►

That night you dream of the thornwood tree.

Blood red blossoms fall elegantly to the ground, twirling in the breeze. One lands in Aleksander’s hair, and you smile softly as you brush it away. He smiles back at you, offering you a hand as you step over the rocky ground.

The monks stand awaiting your arrival, and you triumphantly present them with the heart of Sankt Feliks.

They exchange looks of confusion.

“This will not mend the tear.” One of them tells you, and your stomach drops. “Someone must hold it closed.”

“No.” You say, tears already flooding down your cheeks. “No.”

You turn to Aleksander, who stares grimly at the thornwood tree beside you.

“Aleksander please, no.”

He holds you in his arms, and you grip onto him tightly. His heart beats steady and firm against your ear, and you begin to shake with sobs of fear as he holds the back of your head, keeping you close.

“Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me.” You beg against his chest. He cups your face in his hand.

“The Fold is my fault. I need to fix this.” You shake your head hurriedly, still crying.

“You don’t deserve this.”

He kisses you fiercely, and for a second the world melts away. Aleksander is the only thing that matters. He holds your face with infinite care, and the ache returns to your heart as he pulls away. Aleksander stares deeply into your eyes as he says,

“Nikolai will look after you.” You frown as he glances over your shoulder. “Promise me.”

Nikolai stands behind you, and nods resolutely.

“I promise.” He says. You shake your head.

“Aleksander no-”

“Forgive me.” He whispers, pushing you away.

You stumble back into Nikolai’s arms, who holds you firm against his chest as Aleksander steps away, tears in his dark eyes. Fighting against Nikolai is unless, yet you fight all the same. Begging and screaming for Aleksander.

Scrambling against the covers, you gasp and sob as you wake with a choked scream on your lips. Too overwhelmed by the final scenes of your nightmare, seeing Aleksander’s heart pierced by the thornwood and hearing his screams, you struggle to breathe.

Then a pair of warm arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against a familiar bare chest. Frantic eyes search through the darkness, and you soon find Aleksander’s face, filled with concern as he soothes you.

It’s only then that you realise he’s speaking to you. A low comforting murmur, as he takes your palm and flattens it against his chest, encouraging you to breathe in time with him.

“That’s it.” He says softly. “I’m here, my love.” He presses his lips delicately against your forehead. “We’re both safe. I have you.”

One of his arms remains wrapped around your waist, and the other settles on your back, rubbing nonsensical patterns over the bare skin of your shoulder as your heart rate slows to a more comfortable level.

Exhaustion floods through you, and you collapse weakly into his body. You keep your hand on his chest, protectively splayed over his beating heart, as if you could shield it from the events of the future.

“Do you think my nightmares have some sort of meaning?” You murmur against his chest.

Aleksander is quiet for a moment, as he appears to give your question some genuine thought.

“Have they ever come true?”

“Not yet.”

Another pause.

“But you’re afraid this one will?”

You nod. Aleksander hesitates for a long moment, and you watch his face carefully.

“You said my name.” He admits quietly.

“Did I?”

“You were begging me not to do something.”

There’s an unspoken question in his statement, and a hidden fear of his is brought into the light. You lift your head up, facing him directly as you reach out to cup his face with your hand.

“You weren’t hurting me, Sasha. I’m not afraid of you.”

He nods, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly with a small smile as he traces his fingers down the side of your face. You drop your forehead down to press against his, and breathe in how close he is.

He’s still alive. You’re both okay.

Needing a little more reassurance, you kiss him softly. Aleksander’s hand settles at the nape of your neck, squeezing gently as he holds you close.

You stay in one another’s arms for a long moment trading more soft kisses until your eyes go heavy with exhaustion and you settle yourself further down Aleksander’s body.

“The heart of Sankt Feliks.” You say softly. Aleksander tilts his head in confusion. “It was pierced by thornwood when he died. It’s what we need to fix the making.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, lifting the covers to shield your tired body from the cold of the night.

“I’ll have my people look into it.” He tells you with a nod, before he encourages you to lie your head back down into the crook of his neck. “Get some rest.”

»»---------------------►

With summer on the way, you find your usual walk around the lake even more enjoyable. Aleksander sometimes joins you, but you’re glad of some solitude today.

The sun shines down on your skin and birds chirp cheerily in the branches above your head as you veer off the path and wander through the trees towards the summoners’ pavilion. It had been repainted a week ago, and the bright white sets it apart beautifully from the luscious green leaves surrounding it.

On the steps on the pavilion, you notice a familiar face frowning deeply as she sits with her knees tucked together.

“Alina?” You greet her with a small smile. Her own greeting isn’t too enthusiastic. “Is something the matter?”

She sighs and shuffles over, allowing you to sit down beside her.

“It’s just… Mal.”

“Has something happened?”

She fiddles with the sleeve of her kefta, and you notice some of the golden threads of the embroidery are fraying.

“I found out he’s been fighting with some of the other Grisha, letting them use their power to see who wins.”

You’d forgotten about that.

“Does he win?” She shrugs.

“Most of the time apparently.”

“He didn’t tell you about this?”

Shaking her head in response, she sighs and casts her legs down to graze over the ground.

“No.”

“He probably didn’t want you to worry.” She nods absently.

“I don’t understand why he’s doing it.”

“The fighting?” She hums. “We have to wait until autumn, until the firebird flies north again out of Shu Han.”

That’s not true. To keep Mal at the Little Palace, you had crafted a lie about the firebird in order to buy you and Aleksander some time to handle the Fold.

“I get the feeling that Mal doesn’t like waiting.” You say with a small laugh, which luckily prompts a smile from her.

“No, he doesn’t.”

She looks down, kicking her toe against a few small pieces of gravel.

“I just don’t get why he’s fighting Grisha.”

“Maybe he just wants to prove that he’s still useful.” You muse quietly. “Grisha are powerful, and have these amazing skills. It’s a lot to compete with when you’re otkazat’sya.”

“But I’m not asking him to compete.”

“Maybe he’s not proving it to you. Maybe he’s proving it to himself.”

She appears to give this some thought. If Mal is who Alina wants, then you’ll do what you can to help her. Even if there’s a small twist in your heart that reminds you that he will die one day. As will you. Leaving Alina and Aleksander together.

“I feel like he’s slipping away from me.” She admits.

“You could ask him if he wants you to go watch one of his fights.” You suggest.

“And if he doesn’t want me to?”

“Offer to patch him up afterwards.” A smile spreads over your face as you nudge her shoulder. “Or spend his winnings.”

She glances up at you, and smiles back.

The two of you are quiet again, and you begin to mull something over in your mind. The question is on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t want to upset or frighten Alina.

After another few seconds of quiet, you decide to ask her,

“If you had the chance to take the Fold down, and just get rid of your power to live an ordinary life afterwards. Would you?”

You don’t dare look at her.

“I know I should probably say no.” She admits.

At that, you turn to her. There’s longing in her eyes. As if she’s imagining a quiet peaceful life, filled with domestic happiness. The simple life. No doubt with Mal.

“But you would.” You say softly.

She nods, and you begin to think.

»»---------------------►

“If we manage to find Sankt Feliks’ heart, that means we can safely destroy the Fold.” You say quietly a few evenings later.

Aleksander lifts his head up from where he had previously been resting it on your lap, and he turns to face you. The firelight flickers over his features as he frowns.

“Alina isn’t strong enough. She needs the third amplifier.”

“Mal doesn’t die in the books. She stabs him in the heart, claiming his power, but then he’s revived by a heartrender.”

“But she would still lose her power.”

Staring down at the floor, you nod faintly.

“Yes.”

Aleksander waits for you to continue.

“I’ve always hated Alina’s ending. Your power is a part of you, and losing it seems horrific.”

Aleksander nods slowly, tracing his thumb over your knuckles, no doubt thinking about what it would be like to lose his shadows.

“But she’s only known that she’s Grisha for less than a year, and whilst she is happy here… I can’t help but think she might be happier with the simple life she’s always wanted.”

You stare down at Aleksander’s thumb, watching it smooth over the top of your hand as you continue to speak your thoughts,

“Forever is a long time, especially when she would be happier with a mere eighty years spent with someone she loves.”

“You’re saying she should lose her power?”

“I’m saying that I want to give her a choice. Where she understands the consequences of whatever she picks.”

The two of you are quiet, the sound of the fire crackling softly in the hearth is the only noise in the room, aside from Aleksander’s steady breathing and the anxious pounding of your heart as you await his response.

“I agree.” You blink in surprise.

“You do?”

He nods slowly, tilting his head aside as he watches your face when you try to look away from him.

“What’s that look for?” He asks softly, hooking a finger under your jaw to move your face back towards him so that he can study your expression.

“I can’t help but feel like I’m depriving you of a life partner. Who knows what could happen in a few hundred years time?” You reason with a saddened look. “You could grow to love her, and her you.”

“But I have you, right now, and I chose you.”

He trails his finger along your jawline, holding your chin between his fingers as he leans in to kiss you. You allow yourself to sink into his kiss for a moment, before you’re breaking away. You need him to be on the same page as you.

“You know this means we’re destroying the Fold?” You ask him.

He looks down at your joined hands, fingers curled tightly around one another, and the muscle in his jaw tenses slightly.

“Have you considered weaponising it?” He asks in a low voice and you nod.

“Yes.” He lifts his eyes to stare at you.

“And?”

“And as much as I would love to make our enemies suffer, you can only push fear so far before people become resilient.”

“And if we ensure that they have no means to fight back?”

“Is that truly the world you want to make for your people?” You ask him.

Aleksander looks away, but you know he’s considering what you’ve said. So, you continue to tell him about the Ravka you’ve envisioned.

“Once we fix the tear at the making, the Tula Valley will be what it was centuries ago. Ravka can grow its own produce, we will be reunited with the West, we will have our ports, we can be self sufficient again.”

“You’ve given this quite some thought.”

“When don’t I?”

He smiles softly.

“You think this will work?”

You nod.

“I do. It won’t be easy. But Ravka will be stronger, and better, for it.”

Aleksander brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he nods his consent.

“I trust you.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur

In Another Life Tag List: @parabatai-winchester @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @jambolska-grozdova @mxacegrey @budugu @cynthianokamaria @scarlettqueen190 @eloquentree @sharp-cheekbones-locked @sorrow-and-bliss @biblophilefox82 @tartiflvtte @rainbowgoblinfan @savagejane1

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia

[stheresya]

It's funny to see Darkling antis projecting on Ulla and trying to set her apart from her brother by claiming her supposed moral superiority to him. I don't see how Ulla could be appalled by Aleksander's actions unless one deliberately ignores every canonical information they learned about her. Like... WWSF ends with the implication that Ulla waiting for Sygny and Roffe's innocent daughters to come to her so she can use them to take revenge on their parents. She became Sankta Ursula of The Waves after sinking an entire city filled with people beneath the ocean and splitting the land in two islands (very obvious parallel here).

I understand that interesting characters who don't have a lot of canon material tend to become targets of fandom projection but come on now. Everything we know about her directly contradicts the 'level-headed Morozova sibling' persona that some people made up of her. She’s vindictive to the point of not caring if innocent bystanders get caught up in her wrath. The fact is that Ulla has a lot in common with the Darkling besides blood relation, she does not have the moral highground to oppose his actions nor does she have any reason to want to considering her own views on mortals and entitled monarchs. Ulla can be quite unhinged when provoked, but people keep stripping her of the traits that make her interesting in order for their boring anti-Darkling AUs to work.

[wingsofhcpe]

ivan and aleksander for character asks?

Oh yes the emo besties <3

Aleksander:

First impression: lbr I didn't care much about him in the books, I found him interesting but that was about it.

Impression now: thank you Ben Barnes for ruining my life and MAKING ME FALL IN LOVE with Aleksander Morozova. He's a super complex and interesting character, definitely very well written, morally grey and I'd say he's more of an anti hero than a villain, also he had a Point™ about a few things and I'm sad bc of how much potential he had in RoW and how underused he went.

Favorite moment: "fine. Make me your villain". And his death scene because rereading it now makes me want to cry.

Idea for a story: proper redemption arc, as well as corruption arc with Alina. Enough of the good girl trope, I want them both to go unhinged. It's what they deserve. Let them be feral.

Unpopular opinion: oooh boy time to get cancelled. He really did love Alina, he was right about the fold being the only way to protect Ravka, he is not a horrible and irredeemable person and he deserves a proper redemption arc and to not be permanently killed off. You hear me, Leigh? I sure hope you do.

Favorite relationship: darklina, but also I would love to explore his friendship with Ivan more, and also I'd like to know about his relationship to Sankta Ulla, his apparent half-sister. Morozova family fluff.

Favorite headcanon: he's afraid of the dark. He likes going horse riding with Alina in the early morning. He's alive and well.

Ivan:

First impression: I hated his guts in the books I'm sorry 😭 saw him in the show and was like "huh ok kinda hot... They also seem to have made him less of an insufferable prick, good for him".

Impression now: my gruff traumatised loyal soldier man. Would die for him. He's so complex and deep and an amazing character and honestly be deserves so much better in every way possible.

Favorite moment: when David raises his hand to speak and Ivan looks between him and Aleksander like ???? But also the fete scene with Fedyor <333

Idea for a story: reincarnation trope in modern Ravka for him and Fedyor.

Unpopular opinion: he is not an asshole but idk if that's an unpopular opinion anymore 😂

Favorite relationship: Fedyor <3 but I also love his limited interactions with Aleksander (I want moreee), and I have an elaborate headcanon constructed around him and Zoya being very close friends.

Favorite headcanon: he's half-Fjerdan! Also Julian Kostov, Fedyor's actor, has this hc too so it's basically canon now. Julian and Simon are the captains of this ship and are keeping us well-fed.

[stephanythedramaqueen]

I don’t really like Baghra, but it kind of feels like lost opportunity that three of the Morozova line are canonized into Saints except her. Ilya Morozova, Ulla Morozova and Aleksander Morozova (tho not by name I suppose) all got their sainthood respectively. Baghra at least could have been the patron saint of students or of the mentors or something, considering how many grisha were under her tutelage, including Alina and Aleksander. I mean I feel conflicted bc her teaching methods were problematic but she did teach generations of Grisha. Oh well.

[darkolaism]

003: Aleksander Morozova

003 | Give me a character & I will tell you:

How I feel about this character: he's my son he's my dad he's a martyr he's my meow meow he's a saint. ngl when I first read tgt i thought he's batshit crazy but very hot but now im like ....the only valid character

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: nikolai, obviously. also elizaveta cause they have that "dark couple who'd kill for each other" dynamic

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: him and ulla. there were so little of them in books yet they're amazing!! gave me everything. also him and ivan, they were best friends they told me. and him and baghra, i just love me some good dysfunctional mother&son dynamics

My unpopular opinion about this character: uhhh that he was right but also could've settled with less vile choices? Also i like his and zoya's relationship, or whatever they had. even negative (not romantic in books obv). unpopular among aleksander fans: he never should've treated alina like he does in s&s and r&r. yes, she betrayed him but that doesn't give him the right to do things he'd done to her (which brings us back to my first answer to this question. not so vile my dude)

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: that he fucking lived. also met ulla once more

Favorite friendship for this character: ivan. and him and sylvi in tditw🥺🥺🥺🥺

My crossover ship: aleksander and daenerys. they'd be hot. also him and morgana pendragon from merlin but more like alliance and friendship. I just think that if you're both wizards who'd been failed by the system you can have a little violence.as a treat.

thank you so much for this ask👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

[nightbloomwitch]

All the Wizards I've Loved Before - Inspirations for the Darkling: Dragonlance Legends: Time of the Twins - Book 1, Chapters 5, 7

<--- Previous part

This chapter is the reason why I spent so many words ranting about POV choice in the previous part. I'll try to stop banging on about this so much, but I really can't overstate the amount of difference between the two stories this is going to make from here onwards.

Welcome to

"...the ancient Tower of High Sorcery. Shadow surrounded it by day and by night, for it was guarded by a grove of huge oak trees, the largest trees growing on Krynn...No mortal being, not even a dragon, could enter that accursed ring of guardian oaks...Their vast, spreading branches blotted out the light of moons and stars by night, of the sun by day. Around their roots flowed perpetual night. No soft breeze touched their hoary arms, no storm wind moved the great limbs..."

From Dragonlance: Towers of High Sorcery, 2004

Both Dragonlance and the Grishaverse get a lot of mileage out of dark, spooky forests as liminal spaces. This concept first appears in S&B when Alina arrives at the Little Palace:

"Then we entered a thick stand of trees, large enough that it felt like a small wood, and passed through a long, dark corridor where the branches made a dense, braided roof above us...[I had] that sense of crossing the boundary between two worlds."

(That last line is so obnoxious; normally Leigh's problem is with telling rather than showing, but in that case she just did both, as though she really, really needed to make absolutely certain that the reader realised how clever she was being by using the physical environment to represent the heroine's Threshold Crossing into the Special World).

She uses the concept again at the end of the novel, when Alina encounters the mythical Morozova's herd in the Permafrost forest.

The enchanted thorn wood in Ayama and the Thorn Wood fulfills this role again:

"...a shadowy wood. The gray-bark trees were tall and so thick with thorn-covered brambles that Ayama could see nothing but darkness between them...The wood was lit by stars - though she knew very well it was the middle of the day."

The Thorn Wood is vaguely implied to be in the same location as the Shadow Fold and/or monastery of Saint Feliks, which in RoW, where the central quince tree is described as "the doorway between worlds".

I'm mostly certain that the thorn wood imagery in the Grishaverse is derived from Biblical imagery of the "thorns and thistles" that were man's lot after his exile from Eden, and Abel-Shittim (the Field of Thorns) where the Israelites dwelt in Numbers.

"Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field" - KJV Genesis 3:18

In addition to that, sacred groves and so on are universal mythic concepts which are found everywhere in fantasy fiction - the sacred grove is the dwelling place of the Goddess, and the traditional site of the ritual battle between the Waxing and Waning kings we discussed last chapter - so I'd never accuse her of copying the idea from anywhere, but I still think it's worth noting that it appears repeatedly in the same context in both stories.

---

The POV character for this chapter is Caramon and Raistlin's half-sister Kitiara Uth-Matar - Dragon Highlord, seducer and destroyer of men, and all-round baddest bitch in Krynn.

Hands of Doom, from the 1987 Dragonlance Legends Calendar

simp simp simp simp, I love herrrrr

This is a case of could-be-borrowing, could-be-coincidence; the Darkling also has a half-sister, as revealed in When Water Sang Fire and "confirmed canon" in RoW; both Kitiara and Ulla are dark feminine villain-ish types; I'm mostly certain that the Darkling having a half-sister who's a mermaid is a reference to the Greek legend of Thessalonike the mermaid, who was half-sister to Alexander the Great, but quite possibly it's a combination of the ideas from both sources.

Alexander the Great with his sister, by Mentis Bostantzoglou (Bost), 1984

Like the Darkling and Ulla in WWSF. Kit and Raistlin have a tense, mistrustful relationship, but the bond of blood can't be denied. Kit and Raistlin share a lot of personality traits (though often manifested in opposite ways), whereas Caramon is more or less the "white sheep" of the family.

We're reminded of the likeness and unlikeness between them by another parallel drawn between the openings of Chronicles and Legends.

When the heroes reunite after five years at the beginning of Chronicles, Kitiara is the only one not to show up. Instead, she sends a note with "her regrets and best wishes to all of [her friends] and her love to her brothers". Later it's revealed that the new Lord to whom she has sworn allegiance is Ariakis, the champion of Takhisis, Goddess of Evil, and general of the enemy forces. To make a very long story short, Kit schemes and fights against her former friends until Ariakis is defeated, then she replaces Ariakis as commander of the dragon armies and lets the heroes go, because...well, now they'll have to spend the rest of their long, happy, peaceful lives knowing that they owe her for sparing them. Not because she cares, or anything. Definitely not.

In Chapter 3 of Legends:

"Caramon wrote to him, Tanis. I saw the letter. It was - it tore my heart. Not a word of blame or reproach. It was filled with love. He begged his brother to come back and live with us. He pleaded with him to turn his back on the darkness. ... "It came back," Tika whispered. "Unopened. The seal wasn't even broken. And on the outside was written, "I have no brother. I know no one named Caramon." And it was signed, Raistlin!"

This time, there's no need to shock the reader with the fact that Raistlin has sworn allegiance to Takhisis, because we already know about it from the last book. In fact, a different betrayal is implied. In the prologue, Astinus suggests that Raistlin's loyalty to Takhisis is false.

Kitiara is generally affable to everyone, but then she'll stab them in the back as soon as the need arises, whereas we have known Raistlin to be the opposite - caustic and spiteful to (almost) everyone's face (seeing him take a leaf out of Kit's seduction playbook in this trilogy is really something else), but up till now he could always be relied upon to save the day, no matter how treacherous he seemed.

So...could this deliberate parallel mean he's up to something? (Yes. Raistlin is always up to something). At the end of Chronicles, he told Caramon that it was time for them to go their separate ways, because he had Very Important Things to do that would surely result in Caramon's death if he followed. Is this some kind of ruse to keep his brother out of whatever he's cooking up? (Also yes). When he comes back into the story, will he be on a different side, as Kitiara was?

---

Raistlin invites Kitiara to his Tower, and they sit around drinking wine and arguing about whether or not to team up and take over the world.

"With your help, we could rule [the continent] Ansalon, you and I. In fact" -- Kitiara turned suddenly, her face alight with eagerness - "with your power we could rule the world! We don't need Lady Crysania or our hulking brother --" " 'Rule the world,' " Raistlin repeated softly, his eyes burning. "Rule the world? You still don't understand, do you, my dear sister? Let me make this as plain as I know how." ... "I don't give a damn about the world!" he said softly. "I could rule it tomorrow if I wanted it! I don't." "You don't want the world." Kit shrugged, her voice bitter with sarcasm. "Then that leaves only--" ... He could help me! she thought angrily. He is truly as powerful as they said. More so! But he's insane. He's lost his mind... Then, unbidden, a voice spoke to her from somewhere deep inside. What if he isn't insane? What if he really means to go through with this? Coldly, Kitiara considered his plan, looking at it carefully from all angles. What she saw horrified her. No. He could not win! And, worse, he would probably drag her down with him!"

The relationship between Baghra and the Darkling is a bit of an enigma, and might be an original idea from Leigh or inspired by something else she hasn't disclosed; none of the wizards on our list have significant mother figures (Flagg is...complicated, he very occasionally has one, because Stephen King is awesome and doesn't waste time on boring concepts such as canon or continuity, but that's a story for another time).

Caramon and Raistlin were raised by Kitiara since their mother became very ill after they were born. Just in this one chapter, there's multiple connections we can draw between Kit and Baghra.

In S&B, the Darkling tells Alina about his plan to destroy the Shadow Fold (with her help) almost immediately, while they are traveling to the Little Palace, then it's revealed later that he was (sort of) lying. Here in Legends, we're still kept in suspense about what Raistlin's plan is for several more chapters. Even so, Kit's reaction to figuring out The Plan is fairly similar to Baghra's.

"I never wanted him to feel the way I had as a child...So I taught him that he had no equal, that he was destined to bow to no man. I wanted him to be hard, to be strong. I taught him the lesson my mother and father taught me: to rely on no one. That love - fragile and fickle and raw - was nothing compared to power. He was a brilliant boy. He learned too well.”

Like Baghra to the Darkling, Kit values her brother's immense magical power, which elevates him above all other men, until she decides his ambitions have gone too far, and then she decides he must be stopped.

Also like Baghra, she rejects the child/sibling that can't be used to further her own ambitions (Ulla/Caramon).

"Something within her rose to the challenge. The baby would live! She would make him live, whether he wanted to or not. "My first fight," she used to tell people proudly, "was with the gods. And I won!" And now! Kitiara studied him. She saw the man. She saw -- in her mind's eye -- that whining, puking baby. Abruptly, she turned away."

Like Baghra, her relationship with her family is based more on power, pride and control than genuine love; there is love in there somewhere struggling to show itself, but the world is cruel and love is weakness; in each case the guardian's determination to ensure the child's survival comes from the guardian's pride and will to defy the odds than it does from love of the child.

Kit also goes about trying to derail The Plan in the same way Baghra does:

"He must be stopped...But we do not have to confront Raistlin directly. His scheme hinges upon Lady Crysania. Remove her, and we stop him. He need never know I had anything to do with it, in fact..."

This last one speaks for itself, really.

"When he was small, I taught him that to refuse to do my bidding meant a whipping. It seems he must learn that lesson again!"

This is an awful lot of comparisons over the course of just three pages. There are even more similarities between them if you take the rest of the series into account. I honestly don't think Leigh did this consciously, or that Baghra is based on Kit at all (I do think Zoya is inspired by Kit though, which we will come to much later on), and their roles in the story aren't equivalent, so I don't think there's much value to be had in comparing them as characters. What is worth comparing though is the way the impact of this harsh upbringing is depicted in each story.

Dragonlance in general (not just this trilogy) expends a lot of time and effort on debating about "who's to blame" for Raistlin's descent into villainy, and whilst the conclusion it comes to is broadly the same as TGT (i.e. himself), you definitely can't say they didn't explore every other possible alternative first. It's obvious that whilst a certain degree of Raistlin's (and Caramon's) problems can be traced back to Kit's harsh substitute parenting and eventual neglect, that's not anywhere near the whole story. Raistlin has significant, complex relationships with other people and societal groups in the world (although those relationships generally involve him deliberately excluding himself from the group), and being flogged as a kid is definitely not the most traumatic event of his life (it barely even rates). About the most you can say is that if the point of this was to harden him up, then it really worked. He never expects loyalty from anyone, on the basis of blood or anything other than self-interest, and in Chronicles, he's not at all bothered or surprised when it's revealed that Kit has betrayed the group.

When Raistlin departs to the Tower of High Sorcery in the epilogue of Chronicles, he's fully accepted the world's judgement of him as the villain. He knows himself to be in the right and has convinced himself that he neither wants nor needs loyalty, validation or acceptance from his family or anyone else, and this is why it's so difficult for anyone to get through to him in this trilogy. His internal conflict begins when, to his own disgust, he finds that his human heart and body aren't so ossified as he thought they were, and he does want Crysania's love.

The Darkling's inner world is for the most part left to the readers' interpretation, but it appears to me that he is the complete opposite to Raistlin. He is starving for love, obsessed with his self-image, and he seems to define himself by his layered group identities. His creation of the Second Army and the Little Palace is for the sake of the Grisha. His appeals to Alina are for the sake of Ravka. When Alina comes to the Palace, he wants to give her a black kefta because she is the only Etherealki like him, and he is distressed when she rejects it, because she is excluding herself from their group of two, thus leaving him alone again. When Alina finally concedes to their shared identity on the night of the Winter Fete, he is unable to resist his desire to be with her. Rather than being confident in his own self-knowledge, he is constantly agitated about forgetting his original self, which is why he gives Alina his name in R&R.

Genya tells Alina that it is at the Darkling's insistence that the Grisha in the Little Palace eat (and by extrapolation, dress) like peasants, "Saints forbid we forget we're real Ravkans."

No origin for these customs is given, so it's left up to the readers' imagination . You can theorise that this is purely performative, because the Grisha need to prove to the otkazat'sya that they are loyal to the Crown and the country; you can equally validly theorise that this is a manifestation of the Darkling's personal quest for authenticity, the need to prove to himself that he is still the same peasant boy as when he began, that he is a good Ravkan, by clinging onto the memory of things from that life and making them visible around him at all times.

His relationship with Baghra is the only significant personal relationship he has, due to their longevity and the secret of his true identity. It seems that he wants to have her around, since she lives at the Little Palace under his watch, and he appears to visit her regularly and (foolishly) shares his plans with her. Even so, he's resentful of the fact that she still has an emotional hold over him, and she can still make him jump by shouting at him, like he's twelve years old again. When she betrays him, he's deeply hurt but he can't stand to kill her. He's distressed when she throws herself off a cliff in R&R, and it's not anything to do with the fact that she has attempted to thwart his plans.

Because he doesn't get the love he needs from Baghra, he casts around looking for it in other places. In RoW it says "he'd searched the world for his mother's other children, hungry for kinship, for a sense of himself in others." Since he is immortal and other people live and die so quickly, he eventually begins to seek love from intergenerational groups - the common people of Ravka, the Second Army - rather than individuals. After his (first) death, Alina says that "For all his crimes, the Darkling had loved Ravka, and he'd wanted its love in return," and since this is the denouement, I believe we're supposed to accept this as truth from the author through the mouthpiece of the protagonist. Then in RoW he sacrifices his life (again) "for Ravka", and asks to be remembered as a Saint, so that he will forever be loved by the people.

This fixation on group identity also affects the way he judges other people - when a person joins the cause (Alina, Genya, Zoya, Azarov in RoW), he expects that they will have the same unwavering loyalty to the cause that he has, regardless of personal cost.

(Of course, what's so irritating about all of the above is that due to the non-existence of his POV and Leigh's known opinions on the matter, absolutely anything he says or does can be written off as "manipulation!!", but I refuse to buy into that).

This isn't a negative criticism - it's obvious that she's picked the bits she liked out of all these wizards and left out the bits she didn't, Raistlin's chronic illness being the prime example of that - but I do find it troubling that the Darkling is already the most abused out of all of them in some ways (due to his minority status), and yet she still chooses to add more pain and expects us to not feel badly for him.

---

"Now you see the importance of this Reverend Daughter of Paladine! It was fate brought her to me, just when I was nearing the time for my journey." Kitiara could only stare at him, aghast. Finally, she found her voice. "How-how to you know she will follow you? Surely you didn't tell her!" "Only enough to plant the seed in her breast." Raistlin smiled, looking back to that meeting. Leaning back, he put his thin fingers to his lips. "My performance was, frankly, one of my best. Reluctantly I spoke, my words drawn from me by her goodness and purity. They came out, stained with blood, and she was mine...lost through her own pity."

gasp

Just imagine how different things could have been if Leigh hadn't been so completely committed to this idea that the Darkling must deceive the reader in order to serve as a warning against real wizards.

Raistlin is the same scheming, conniving, tricky bastard he has been for years, and we hear this from his own mouth on page 81 of 398 (of Book 1 out of 3); after the prologue (which is supposed to be unsettling), Legends allows the reader to be confident in their interpretation of what is real and what is not, because we are told from the very beginning that Raistlin intends to use Crysania for some dark purpose, and even the methods of his manipulation. Like the Darkling, it's rare for him to outright lie; generally he tells (select parts of) the truth as he sees it, in the way he thinks will be the most appealing to Crysania, and he does everything he can to make sure she feels sorry for him. When we're in his POV we get to witness him planning how to string her along and weighing up how far he thinks he can push his luck.

This is so much fun. It's interesting. Occasionally it's hilarious, in an oh-gosh-how-sweet-he's-so-scared-of-catching-feelings kind of way. It's increasingly maddening every time he refuses to give in. If you have ever in your life considered lying to someone to get what you need from them, maybe you can find it relatable. Maybe it does make you hate him just the tiniest little bit. By the end, when everything has gone out of anyone's control, it's tragic.

But perhaps most importantly, it doesn't make the reader feel stupid or unwanted for caring about him.

I love Raistlin to bits, I really, really do, but I still find him less sympathetic than the Darkling (at least in S&B), because I know for certain that he has chosen to do things that he knows, in his heart-of-hearts, are wrong. I was there, Gandalf; I lived through it with him. My problem with the big reveal in S&B is that it's entirely possible that the Darkling has actually changed his mind (or is in the process of changing his mind, or would have changed his mind later) about "enslaving" Alina if the relationship had been allowed to continue and Baghra hadn't pulled the rug out from under him. Because we're never allowed to see his side of the story (until RoW), it's open season for the reader to interpret and project onto him however they want to, and incorrigible bleeding-hearts like me who always insist on the most generous possible interpretation of every character (because people are good by default, actually!) are willing to let him get away with far more than Leigh wants us to (as she always complains about).

In fact, the story even seems to be constructed with this in mind.

At the time of the reveal, the reader is still intended to view the Darkling as Alina's primary love interest, and therefore we are well-disposed to him; right now he's looking even better in comparison to Mal, who has just had a great no-holds-barred argument with Alina and made her feel terrible about herself. Even Alina (briefly) doubts Baghra's accusations. As an isolated incident, I don't regard Alina's snap decision to flee the Palace as poor characterisation. After the deprived, lonely, unhealthy life she's had, everything seems to be going too well for her all of a sudden, she's only just started to be confident that she really fits in at the Little Palace, and now Mal has come along planted the seed of doubt in her. She's not even sober at the time. It makes in-character sense for her to catastrophise and run away.

What sours me on it is that taking into account what we discussed at the end of the prologue chapter about the Darkling's introduction and the establishment of narrative expectations, it seems that it should be a mistake that Alina misjudges him based on the accusations of others. We were told from the very beginning that he was Bad, when we actually met him he seemed to be not so bad, but then in the end it turns out he was Very Bad indeed. What have we learned? Always believe the rumours that people in your own in-group tell you about people in the out-group, just in case? Very troubling, especially when the out-group in question is clearly identified as a persecuted minority with an close real-world equivalent.

The repetition of tasks is a standard fairytale (and fantasy) motif; if the hero fails the first attempt to complete the task assigned to him by the story, then it's only fair that he be given another attempt (or two, or five. However many it takes). As was previously mentioned, the early chapters seem to be setting up for Alina the lesson or task of overcoming her fear of and prejudice against the Grisha and the Darkling.

In the camping scene before they arrive at the Little Palace, the Darkling confronts Alina with the question of whether it would be "better" to kill an enemy with a sword, rather than with the Cut, to which she replies that she doesn't know.

"But I thought of the look that had flickered over his features, the shame in his voice when he'd talked about the Black Heretic, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I had failed some kind of test."

She has failed the "test", explicitly identified as such in the text, of understanding him, and accepting the nature and necessity of his (and thus, her own) Grisha powers.

On the night of the Winter Fete, Alina has just about fully accepted her new life with him at the Palace - she is about to pass the "test". The Darkling almost chooses to forgo news of the stag for the sake of being with her, but changes his mind at the last minute.

"Tonight, we received word that my men have spotted Morozova's herd. The key to the Shadow Fold is finally within our graps, and right now, I should be in the war room, hearing their report. I should be planning our trip north. But I'm not, am I?"

Alina's "test" is to understand the Darkling and accept his and her own powers; the Darkling's "test" is to give in to love for Alina and thus abandon his quest for Morozova's power (and the rest of the plan).

When they reunite when the stag appears at the end, that ought to be the second chance for each of them to learn from their previous mistake and make the correct choice; instead, the Darkling has now fully descended into villainy and goes straight to forcing the collar on Alina, and thus she never considers hearing him out or letting him back into her heart.

I know I said in the introduction that I would resist talking about Jane Eyre, but very briefly, the whole sequence of events in S&B - Alina's "imprisonment" in the Little Palace, followed by her discovery of her lover's dark secret, followed by her escape and time spent in the wilderness, and so on - as well as certain aspects of the imagery, really do make it seem as though S&B is supposed to be some kind of fantasy appropriation of Jane, except then there's another two books and Jane murders Rochester in the end.

How unsurprising.

Manipulation is the beginning of Raistlin's character arc, but it's the end of the Darkling's, since as Mr Barnes keeps pointing out (to everyone's amusement), the Darkling is "a little bit conceptual" and more of an "allegory" than an actual character after the first book. Leigh never lets him progress beyond the (alleged) evil of his original intentions, which is tragic because, like Raistlin, he really does think that this is the only way to save the world. The Plan is far too important to risk it all on a girl being uncooperative, and if only she knew everything he knew and had suffered as he had suffered, she would agree with him and go along with it anyway.

---

Kitiara hangs out with Lord Soth, the Death Knight.

"Knight of the Black Rose," continued Raistlin, "who died in flames in the Cataclysm before the curse of the elfmaid you wronged dragged you back to bitter life."

The placement of this scene and dialogue is really clever. The above quote is all that is told of Soth's backstory in this chapter, but Kitiara narrated the full story back when Soth was introduced in Book 3 of Chronicles:

This is the same chapter in which we revisit the prologue scene, and learn that Raistlin has lied to Crysania in order to lure her to his Tower, which recalls Soth’s seduction of the elfmaid Isolde. In the prologue, Raistlin’s offer to Crysania is specifically described as a “proposal”. His current allegiance to the goddess Takhisis substitutes for Soth's first wife. Like Isolde, Crysania believes that it's her mission from her god to redeem her dark lover from his past misdeeds.

In the event that the reader has missed this or forgotten the story from Chronicles, much later on in the book the priestesses of Paladine will explicitly compare Crysania with Isolde:

“...There was a young girl in our Order who had the power of true healing. That young girl who was seduced by the Solamnic knight. What was his name?

“Soth,” said Quarath. “Lord Soth, of Dargaard Keep.”

( I rag on Leigh about this sort of thing all the time, so it’s only fair that I point out that this bit of dialogue adds nothing to the scene and appears to exist only to make sure the reader notices the parallel. Even Dragonlance isn’t completely immune t o my editorial pen).

Since the Soth/Isolde story seems parallel to the Raistania story so far, it hints that Raistania could progress along the same lines. On the other hand, Raistlin knows the story and deliberately mentions it, so does that mean he knows he's initiated a perilous chain of events, and has he planned ahead to avoid suffering Soth's fate? Or will his pride cause him to disregard the story's warning, until it's too late?

We’re not told whether Crysania also knows the story, but if she does, it isn’t in the front of her mind, because she doesn’t recognise Soth when he looms out of the shadows and kills her at the end of Chapter 7. (Yes, really). Crysania considers her brief death and subsequent resurrection to be sure signs of Paladine’s support for her mission to redeem Raistlin, but to the reader, taking into account the additional knowledge gained from the other POVs, she appears to be marching onward to certain doom.

It’s not all bad news, though, since there's going to be another parallel in a few chapters' time which foreshadows a different possible outcome for Raistania.

This is not exactly something Leigh could have recreated, since she was starting a brand new story, but the fact remains that all of the Grishaverse worldbuilding that could have been used to foreshadow a good or bad ending to Darklina was done after TGT had ended. Like Raistania, Darklina does have two possible outcomes paralleled in other stories, but instead of being used for foreshadowing, both the other stories were published after R&R when it was too late for them to generate any narrative tension, and so they feel like missed opportunities instead. The "bad ending", where one of them murders the other, is Eryk/Annika in DitW – Eryk, of course, is the Darkling, Annika seems to be specifically equated with Alina due to her white-blond hair and her status as a war orphan; the "good ending" is Ayama/Beast in Ayama and the Thorn Wood.

This is admittedly more of a stretch, but it’s possible to read AatTW as connected to TGT because:

The setting is an unnamed pastoral kingdom in a “western valley”, which recalls the farmland of the Tula Valley in west Ravka where the Shadow Fold is located;

The Beast is a dark, werewolf-like creature. Leigh wrote the song “Winter Prayer” which describes the Darkling as a “shadow hound”; my first thought was that this was a reference to Rochester being associated with the gytrash in Jane, but maybe it also has something to do with “The Hound” Clegane? In The Stand, Randall Flagg appears to Mother Abigail as "a huge Rocky Mountain timberwolf, its jaws hanging open in a sardonic grin, its eyes burning. There was a beaten silver collar around its thick neck, a thing of handsome, barbarous beauty, and from it dangled a small stone of blackest jet..." The Dog (of the Underworld, i.e. Cerberus) is also one of the symbols of the sacred kings in the Goddess story. The poetic meaning of the dog is 'Guard the Secret' - the Secret being the true name of the King, on which his magical power and his life force depends.

Ayama is a poor girl, and considered to be unattractive, like Alina in the beginning, but she discovers the “monster” inside her through her romance with the Beast. Like Alina and the Darkling, they recognise the loneliness in one another;

The first story Ayama tells, about a boy who can never be full because his mother swallowed the night sky, which is now inside him, meaning that he must swallow a piece of the sun in order to complete himself, is impossible not to relate to Darklina.

If Leigh had had the Language of Thorns ideas earlier, she could have woven the Ayama/Beast story into S&B as a Ravkan folktale that Alina knows, or something, which also would have served to pad out her very thin worldbuilding. According to her interview with Hypable on 28 September 2017, she wrote three of the stories at the same time as TGT as a worldbuilding exercise, but the two stories that really matter to the main characters – AatTW and WWSF - were written afterwards.

If she had written any scenes from the Darkling's POV, she could have used his memories of Annika to explain why he has trust issues about giving Alina an amplifier.

---

There's a great analysis post on the "If I had cut him down with a sword would that make it any better?" scene by black-rose-writings

Go read it!

I was intending to aim for one post per week, but at that rate we will likely be here for years; honestly I didn't think there would be this much to talk about in every chapter. Everyone who has seen the Twitter thread will know that I'm a few chapters ahead there, the parallels between the stories are only ramping up, and as I think further ahead to the other books and films on the list, I'm starting to think that they might all be like this.

This one gave me a lot of trouble because I kept getting side-tracked thinking about how terribly written Baghra is and how I have no idea how Leigh wants me to interpret her (many, many paragraphs were written and deleted, count yourselves lucky), let's see if I can update a little faster next time...?

Next part --->

[goatsandgangsters]

Diversity win! The Darkling's sister is a mermaid, and also a lesbian

[marvelmusing]

In Another Life

Part Sixteen

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Alternate Universe!Reader

Summary: Together, you and Aleksander journey to the monastery of Sankt Feliks. To mend the tear at the making, a sacrifice from one of you is required.

Warnings: canon level violence, small amount of blood, the reader goes through a painful altercation (I really hope that what I’ve come up with makes sense because it could be possible canonically but canon doesn’t really make sense either).

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist • Next Part

Aleksander extends a hand to you, as your ankle nearly twists when you step on a rather loose rock. He holds tightly onto you, urging you closer so that he can steady your body with his own.

The walk to Sankt Feliks’ monastery was precarious, and you had needed to abandon your horses nearly an hour ago. Aleksander had gifted you a beautiful white mare named Luna for the journey. She hadn’t seemed too upset by being left tied to a tree further down the mountain, free to graze alongside Nocturne.

As you’re walking, you can’t help but compare this moment to the scene in the books. Aleksander had been the one leading the group, just as he is now.

In the books, he had been wearing tattered robes, his hands had been bound to prevent him from summoning, and he was flanked by sun soldiers. He had been the enemy then.

The Aleksander holding onto your hand is almost the polar opposite of that man. He’s wearing his fur collared cloak, to shield him from the cold of the mountain air. The two of you are surrounded by friends - the Grisha you trusted most to accompany you.

There’s a small glow of pride in your chest, that you are the reason why everything is different. If everything goes wrong now, and you fall at the last hurdle, you know that you’ve already changed this world - and Aleksander’s life - for the better.

The monastery appears almost from nowhere. One moment you’re watching your feet as you nearly stumble over another boulder, the next, Aleksander has stopped and you’re staring up at a series of large stone arches carved into the rock face.

There’s no door, only a small dark tunnel.

“Wait here.” Aleksander instructs your group.

Zoya and Ivan both look ready to disagree with him, but Aleksander gives them both a firm look, whilst you nod and smile reassuringly.

“We shouldn’t be long.” You add.

As Aleksander steps forward into the entrance, you’re reminded of the tunnel underneath Ulla’s chapel. Just as he did then, Aleksander keeps his fingers curled around yours, and you can feel his shadows clinging close as you walk over the uneven ground.

You aren’t walking for long before you step out into cold sunlight once again. The monastery has no ceiling, though some shelter is provided by the huge branches that sway overhead.

Dark red buds adorn the winding arms of one central tree, with black thorns that are longer than your forearm. There’s a painful twist in your heart when you identify the tree.

This is the thornwood tree.

A woman steps out from the shadows. Her dark hair is pulled back tightly, and her features are sharp as she surveys you and Aleksander.

She bows lightly, before greeting you both in a language you don’t understand. Aleksander responds in what you assume is the same language. When he notices your frown, he dips his head down to inform you,

“Ancient Kaelish.” You hum in response.

“We know why you are here.” She says, her voice smooth and clear.

“We?” Aleksander remarks with a raised brow.

All around you, monks step out from shadowed nooks, flashes of red silk that soon surround you. Opening up your bag, you pull out the heart of Sankt Feliks.

“I believe this belongs to you.” You say, stepping towards her with more bravery than you feel.

She tilts her head aside as she looks at you.

“You’re not from this world, are you?”

You raise your chin, swallowing down your fear.

“No. I’m not.”

She steps closer, moving her hands slowly towards the heart. As she takes it in her hands, you say,

“I think it can be used to mend the making.”

“Mending the tear will demand a sacrifice from one of you.” She says lightly, her eyes remaining fixed on the heart as she turns it over in her hands.

“One of us?” Aleksander asks. She turns to face him.

“You have a heart strong enough to hold the tear in the making closed.” You know what that means and you shiver at the thought of Aleksander suffering for eternity. “To do so, you must stand at the doorway between worlds forever.”

You haven’t come all this way for Aleksander to suffer a fate worse than death. The monk’s words play over in your mind - one of you. Meaning that you also have a price to pay, instead of Aleksander.

“What about me?” You say.

Aleksander turns to look at you with widened eyes, and for a moment he looks frightened, as the monk studies you.

“You have the making of two worlds inside you. The tear is what brought you into this world, and it must be mended from one side.”

Looking over at the broken gap at the base of the thornwood’s trunk, you frown before you ask quietly,

“You mean I can go back to my world?”

She nods.

“But you will never be able to return to this one.”

The thought of leaving Aleksander behind, and never seeing him again tugs hard at your heartstrings. After all you’ve been through, you can’t even consider such a thing.

“And if I mend the tear from this side?”

“You will sever the connection you have with the world you were born in.”

You frown.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you will remain exactly as you are now.”

Turning towards her, your frown deepens.

“For how long?”

She doesn’t respond, merely glancing over at Aleksander before her gaze settles back onto you. Somehow, he seems to understand what this means.

“Forever.” Aleksander says in explanation. You turn to him.

“Forever?” You whisper.

The idea of living forever is a baffling concept. Especially for an ordinary otkazat’sya like you, who is from a world where no one lives forever.

You straighten, nodding.

“Well, it’s obvious what we have to do then.” You say, bending down to discard your bag in preparation of whatever you need to do in order to mend the tear.

“Don’t rush into this.” Aleksander warns you, curling his fingers around your wrist. “Forever is a long time.” He adds softly. “Alina didn’t want it.”

You look up at him, meeting his eyes. You can see the worry there - that you might be making a decision you’ll regret. Forever is a long time, especially for regrets. But you’ve already made up your mind.

You place your own hand over his, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze as you tell him,

“Alina didn’t have you. I do.”

He smiles softly, nodding in agreement.

“You do.”

With a determined expression, you turn back to the monk.

“What do I have to do?” You ask her.

“The heart must be blessed with your blood, before it can be returned to the thornwood.”

She retrieves a knife from between the folds of her crimson robes, and a touch of fear settles into your heart. The monks unnerve you, and the idea of one of them coming near you with a knife isn’t pleasant.

“May I?” Aleksander asks her, holding out his hand for the knife. She gives it to him.

You swallow nervously as you eye the blade, but Aleksander keeps his eyes firmly on the monk.

“How much blood?” He asks. She turns snapping her fingers, and another monk appears at her side.

He’s young, with dark eyes and a mop of curly blonde locks adorning the top of his head, and his face flushes red as he scrambles to flick frantically through the pages of the book in his hand.

Then he turns it around, displaying a page with a symbol painted over it.

“Enough to draw this onto the heart.” She says.

Aleksander nods.

Then he takes your hand delicately in his own, encouraging you to hold your pointer finger out with the soft tip facing skyward.

“Monk’s always go too far with their ceremonial blood drawings.” Aleksander mumbles, and you would laugh if you weren’t so nervous. “Wholly unnecessary, and rather messy.”

Aleksander seems nervous as well, as his rambling halts and he inhales slowly. His voice softens as he adds,

“This shouldn’t hurt too much, my love.”

“Aleksander.” You say in a small voice. He looks up at you sharply, his motions frozen in an instant. “I love you.”

He smiles softly.

“And I love you. Are you ready?”

You nod.

He slices the tip of your finger with the knife, enough to draw a small amount of blood with only a sharp sting of pain.

Eyes on the symbol in the book, you trace your bleeding finger over the hardened wood-like material of the heart. The monk watches intently, and once you’re finished she nods in satisfaction.

“Now return it to the making.” When you look over at the thornwood and hesitate, she adds, “It will hurt.”

Both you and Aleksander turn sharply to look at her.

“But not, ‘suffering for eternity’ level of hurt, though?” You prompt, brows furrowed as you stare at her. “Right?”

“Less than holding the door between the worlds together for eternity, yes.”

Aleksander looks unconvinced by the monk’s words, and he eyes you carefully as he waits for your reaction. You have a feeling that if you said no, he wouldn’t mind. That he would ensure that the two of you would find another way.

But you need to do this, despite your fear.

You nod.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

“I’m sure.”

Stepping forward, you climb over the gnarled roots towards the trunk of the thornwood. There’s a small area that looks as though it has been carved out, and you can only assume that is where the heart belongs.

Once you’ve placed it back with shaking hands, the monks approach, lying their own hands on the bark as you step away. They’re fabrikators, you remember, and they will ensure that the heart mends the tear at the making.

As you rejoin Aleksander, a pain wracks through your entire body and you collapse against him. He wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you upright, but when you groan lowly he quickly eases you both onto the floor.

It feels as though a part of you is being ripped away, slowly, inch by inch, and you grit your teeth as you struggle to process everything. Then a searing burning runs over your skin, as if the tear inside you is being sealed with a soldering iron.

Tears flood down your cheeks, as you fight to control your breathing. Aleksander holds onto you, allowing you to dig your nails into his clothes as you grip them tightly in an attempt to handle the pain.

Every bone in your body aches, and your muscles tighten uncomfortably as you gasp and writhe in pain.

Aleksander holds the back of your head, ensuring that you don’t thrash to the point of hurting yourself. You press your forehead hard against his shoulder, tears coating your face.

Then it stops.

Sweat glosses over your brow, and your tears begin to dry against your cheeks.

Aleksander’s hands cup your face delicately, tears welling in his own eyes. He can see the relief in your expression as he scours your face intently. It’s over. You’re alright now.

“I thought I told you to stop risking your life.” Aleksander remarks laughingly, though his voice is thick with emotion as your body collapses weakly against his.

“Did it work?” You ask, your voice hoarse.

The monk appears in the corner of your vision, and she gestures to the side of the courtyard.

“See for yourself.”

Aleksander helps you to your feet, and you hold onto him as you move over towards the thick stone wall. There’s a small gap, a window of sorts, carved into the side of the monastery.

As you peer through, all you see is clouds of white. The sunlight shines down, and a breeze scatters the cloud line. Then you see it.

What had once been the blackened sand of the unsea, stained by centuries of darkness, is now a vivid burst of green. The Tula Valley has been revived. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at it. Then you look at Aleksander.

A tear traces its way down his cheek.

He looks down at you and his face breaks into a smile of pure elation. Aleksander scoops you up into his arms, twirling the two of you around as he laughs in disbelief. You cling to him, his laughter infectious. You did it.

Then he kisses you.

Warmth spreads through your chest, and you feel as though you could burst with happiness. Aleksander drops his head down further, kissing you with every ounce of feeling he has. The fear of losing you, the distress of seeing you in pain, the joy of knowing that you succeeded.

A thrill runs through the entirety of your body, and when Aleksander’s lips leave yours you’re glad he doesn’t go far, pressing his forehead against your own. Then a bright red petal falls into his hair.

You frown, picking the delicate portion of flower from his dark locks. The two of you look up, and the thornwood is in full bloom.

Sliding your hand through Aleksander’s hair, you ruffle it affectionately in an attempt to shake the gathering petals away with a soft laugh. The adoring look in his eyes has emotion swelling in your chest. A look of surprise crosses over his features, and you frown.

Following his gaze, you watch as vines slowly creep over the nearest root of the thornwood, decorating the dark wood with a luscious green that begins to grow delicate buds as you watch it.

“The thornwood has not bloomed this brightly for several centuries.” The monk states, her voice filled with awe.

All around you, the monks drop to their knees. Some of them pray openly, and you see one or two them with tears in their eyes.

“You have received the blessing of Sankt Feliks.” She says, looking directly at you.

Glancing over at Aleksander, your eyes wide with confusion, he appears to be lost in thought.

“I did this?”

He nods slowly.

“How?”

He ponders your question for a long moment.

“You have the making of two worlds in you. Cutting the connection with your own world, must have strengthened your connection to this one.”

“So I’m Grisha?”

Aleksander takes your hand carefully, his brows furrowed. You still don’t feel that sense of certainty, and Aleksander’s expression doesn’t change. He shakes his head.

“I can’t feel anything.”

“Our saint has given you the gift of creation itself.” The monk explains.

You frown. The only form of creation you know is the forbidden science - abomination.

“Merzost?” She shakes her head.

“Something far older. The same matter that holds the universe intact.”

“I understand now.” Aleksander says quietly, and you turn to him with confusion in your eyes. “Morozova’s amplifiers were drawn to you, because your connection to the making is deeper than any other Grisha.”

He traces his fingers over your cheek, his eyes filled with awe as he looks at you.

“The power of pure creation. They recognised themselves in you.”

“Sankt Feliks could grow crops even in the harshest of winters.” You recall. Aleksander had told you the story of Sankt Feliks, many months ago.

Aleksander nods.

“You have the same power as him.”

Before you leave, the monks are all eager to give you their well wishes and prayers. A few of them reach towards you, and you let them clasp your hand between their own.

Aleksander sets his hand at your lower back, guiding you forwards as you head back along the tunnel to return to your group.

You can hear their excited voices as they look down the mountain range, where the Tula Valley is now in the full bloom of summer for the first time in centuries.

Once again, you almost tumble as you step on a loose stone, which catches the attention of your group. They turn to face you both, relief and joy filling their expressions.

“You did it!” Zoya exclaims, rushing towards you and throwing her arms around you. You grip tightly onto her, as your relief finally settles in.

Zoya’s family lives in Novokribirsk. Now she can visit them whenever she wants to.

A small sob wells in your throat as you bury your face into her hair. Despite your new power, and immortality, you’re still aching and exhausted. She pulls back searching your tear filled eyes.

“There weren’t any creepy monks I have to go put in their place, were there?”

You laugh, which causes a few tears to spill out as you admit,

“There were some creepy monks, but I think we’re friends now.” She raises a brow.

“You better not have replaced me.”

The two of you smile widely as you shake your head.

“Never.”

Aleksander settles his hand back against your spine, and he murmurs softly,

“Let’s get you checked over.”

You nod.

Zoya wraps her arm around your waist, helping you walk over the uneven ground as Aleksander hovers closely behind, his fingers lingering on the space between your shoulder blades.

Fedoyr examines you once you’re settled onto a large boulder.

As always, the process of being healed is uncomfortable, the feeling of itching as your pain is removed. Usually you don’t mind the feeling, but when every bone and muscle in your body requires some healing, it’s quite unpleasant.

Aleksander cradles the back of your head as he sits beside you, and a few tears escape your eyes as you press your face against his shoulder.

Once Fedoyr has finished, you sigh in relief.

“Thank you, Fedoyr.”

He nods, giving you a smile.

“My pleasure. Well done.”

He bows lightly, and moves back towards the rest of the group. For a moment, you and Aleksander are quiet, and you simply enjoying being safe in his arms. The sun is shining down, and despite the cool breeze, you no longer feel cold.

“Are you alright now?” He asks softly.

You smile at him.

“Ravka is on the brink of rebirth. I have an incredible power, and I’m going to live forever. Not to mention I have you.”

Leaning forward, you kiss him tenderly.

“I’ve never been better.” You assure him.

Aleksander cups your face in his hands, and kisses you. You’re both smiling against one another’s lips, and your heart sings with love for him. Then you hear Zoya speaking,

“I don’t mean to interrupt a happy moment, but…”

You look down at where Zoya is staring, and you notice a carpet of delicate flowers slowly growing over the rocks around you and Aleksander. Warmth spreads over your cheeks.

“I should probably figure out how to control that.” You remark sheepishly. Aleksander hums with a soft smile on his face as he brushes his knuckles over your cheek.

“I will help you.”

“You’re Grisha now?” Zoya says with a hopeful smile. You nod and her smile widens. “You’re sitting with me during lunch.”

“With the summoners?” Fedoyr protests with a frown. Zoya points down to the patch of flowers that continue to bloom.

“The flowers were summoned.”

“Corporalki is the order of the living and dead. Plants are living.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Aleksander chuckles quietly, sliding an arm around your waist as he guides the two of you into standing, and you begin to walk further down the mountain.

“It appears your Grisha order has caused some contention.” Aleksander remarks and you laugh softly.

“I wonder what colour kefta I will have.”

Aleksander frowns, and you could say that he almost looks offended.

“It will be black of course.”

Warmth spreads over your cheeks, and giddy excitement fills you at the thought of wearing a black kefta as you stand by Aleksander’s side.

“You’re sure?” You ask, even though you know what his answer will be.

“Indefinitely.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur

In Another Life Tag List: @parabatai-winchester @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @jambolska-grozdova @mxacegrey @budugu @cynthianokamaria @scarlettqueen190 @eloquentree @sharp-cheekbones-locked @sorrow-and-bliss @biblophilefox82 @tartiflvtte @rainbowgoblinfan @savagejane1 @sande5098

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia

[marvelmusing]

In Another Life

Part Fourteen

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Alternate Universe!Reader

Summary: Ravka’s seat of power changes, and Aleksander makes a discovery that sends you both north in search of his sister.

Warnings: mentions of canon level violence, spoilers for the Language of Thorns.

A/N: since there’s only one short story with Ulla which was set when she was young - my version of her is very much my own interpretation for this fic (but I hope you guys like her).

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist • Next Part

It rains on the day of the King’s funeral.

As Vasily’s betrothed, you stand beside him in your uniform, made black for the sombre occasion. He doesn’t look at you, and you don’t speak for the entirety of the service.

Considering the fact that your country is at war, a colossal amount of money must have been spent on the King’s funeral. The wake in particular is extremely extravagant, with a large banquet spread out that very few of the guests eat from.

The entire day feels like an awful waste. Of time, money, resources. The people’s tears even, are wasted on a man who didn’t care for them.

Aleksander spends most of his time being hounded by older First Army officials who treat him like a boy, while they attempt to win his favour to take Zlatan’s position. Occasionally you will lock eyes with him, and the two of you will share a knowing look - endure it.

You spend a lot of your time consoling the Queen alongside Nikolai. Vasily makes himself scarce at the first opportunity, and you don’t see him again for the rest of the day.

After the King’s funeral, an official ten days of mourning begin. The war doesn’t stop for mourning, and neither do you and Aleksander. Locked away in his war room, you plan out your next campaigns along the frontlines and pray that this will be the final push before you bring down the Fold.

On the third day of mourning, Nikolai travels to Caryeva to see his brother under the guise of brotherly solidarity. You know why he’s actually going, and can only hope that he succeeds. Otherwise you will need to plan for a wedding, or faking your death and asking Genya to tailor your face.

When you hear of Nikolai’s return, you expect him to call on you. But he doesn’t. He settles into the Grand Palace, and attends to his mother. You decide to leave them be for the rest of the mourning period.

You’re in Court the moment Vasily’s abdication is announced. There’s a few sentences at the end of the announcement that dissolve any agreements he made as the Crown Prince - rather pointedly referring to your engagement.

Fiddling with the emerald on your finger, you can feel the eyes on you as the announcement ends, and the repercussions begin to sink in. If you had been in love with Vasily, this would have been mortifying. Even now, you feel an embarrassed flush creep down your neck.

Nikolai appears at your side, taking your arm and steering you through the crowd. You do your best to look increasingly upset, and by the time you’re leaving the main hall a tear has fallen down your cheek.

Once you’re finally alone you drop your facade, and can’t help but throw your arms around him with delight.

“You did it.”

He chuckles, his arms settling around your waist.

“You doubted me?”

You roll your eyes as you drawl,

“How could I ever?”

There’s the sound of footsteps, and your eyes widen as Nikolai pulls you closer. Hiding your face against his chest, you do your best to appear distraught by the news of Vasily. He pats the back of your head tenderly, and gives whoever had appeared a firm look that has them retreating quickly.

“It appears I’m both your knight in shining armour, and your shoulder to cry on.”

Tilting your head back, you look up to meet his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smirk before remarking drily,

“My hero.” He grins.

“I give it less than a month before I’m the one giving you that ring.”

His words remind you of the ring still on your finger.

“I should probably give this back.”

As you slide the Lanstov emerald from your hand, you narrow your eyes at him.

“Six weeks until you announce our courtship.”

You curl the ring tightly in your hand, holding it hostage above his open palm until he agrees to your demands. He raises a brow.

“Courtship?”

“A month after that you can propose.”

“If I was truly courting you, we’d be married within the week.”

“I don’t want people to think I’m only after the throne.” You admit quietly.

Nikolai’s expression softens as he coaxes your fingers into releasing the emerald before he says in a low voice.

“Then we should do our best to seem madly in love.” A door opens somewhere nearby, and Nikolai offers you his arm once he’s pocketed the ring. “Shall we?”

You take his arm and the two of you leave through the side door which will lead you back to the Little Palace.

Nikolai is good company. Despite his easygoing and lively personality, he appreciates the quiet as well. He can be serious, and listens to your ideas with genuine interest. Just as he did as Sturmhond.

“Have you told your mother?” You ask him. He lifts a brow.

“Told her what?”

“That you’re Sturmhond.”

He sighs, looking down over the grounds as you continue to walk with his arm in yours.

“I’m not sure how well she would take it.”

“I’m sure you could swing it into your favour. After all, isn’t Sturmhond notorious for winning battles against the Fjerdan Navy?”

The hint of a smirk touches his features.

“I didn’t realise you were such a fan.”

You roll your eyes again, but can’t prevent the warmth flooding over your cheeks at his teasing.

“I don’t think you have to choose between Nikolai and Sturmhond.” You say. “The people would admire you for taking a hands on approach to their fight. You did your military service alongside them, and they respect you for that.”

He tilts his head as he watches you, considering your words thoughtfully.

“You could be a seafarer king.” He grins.

“I quite like the sound of that.”

Once you reach the entrance to the Little Palace, he holds onto your hand as you move to leave. You turn to look at him.

“Five weeks, before I officially court you. Then one month after that I’ll propose.” You nod in agreement, and a smirk tugs at your lips as you tease,

“And if I refuse?” He smiles.

“I don’t think you will. I think we make a good pair.”

You nod, despite the conflict in your heart.

“I think we do.”

Later on in the day, when you’re reading through some reports in the war room, you mention Nikolai’s agreement to Aleksander. He nods slowly in response.

“After his coronation we will journey to Kenst Hjerte.”

Lifting your head up from the pages in front of you, your gaze moves across the table to look at Aleksander.

“Those are the islands north of Fjerda.” You say, and he nods as he adds,

“Where it is rumoured that Sankta Ursula lives.”

Sankta Ursula - the Fjerdan name for Ulla. Your frown deepens and you tilt your head as you look at him with confusion in your eyes.

“We’re visiting your sister?”

The corner of his mouth lifts fondly, as he begins to explain,

“The heart of Sankt Feliks was stolen from his monastery by a monk several centuries ago.”

Hope fills you. If Aleksander is telling you this, he must believe he can find it. You stand from your chair, and move over to stand beside Aleksander as he looks down at a map detailing the Fjerdan coastline.

“The monk travelled north into Fjerda, and when he returned he was one of the richest men in Ravka.”

“How?”

“Ulla deals in bargains. She gives ambitious people whatever they desire, as long as they offer in return whatever it is they hold most dear.”

“He gave her the heart of Sankt Feliks.”

Aleksander nods.

“The symbol of his faith, in exchange for earthly riches.”

“He doesn’t sound like a very good monk.”

Aleksander’s smile returns as he breathes out a small laugh. You look down at the shape of the islands of Kenst Hjerte - the broken heart - tracing your fingers over the outline of them.

“Does your sister do family discounts?” You ask, worried at the thought of giving up what you hold most dear.

Aleksander slips an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side.

“She will help us.”

»»---------------------►

Two days after Nikolai’s coronation, you and Aleksander take a small ship up to the collection of islands to the north of Fjerda. The ship is one of Sturmhond’s, and you’re not flying the Ravkan flag as you sail around the coastline of Fjerda.

Whenever you spot sight of land, or any other ships, a sense of anxiety fills you. Being so close to enemy territory has you on edge.

Aleksander had assured you that you would be fine, but the fact that he isn’t wearing his kefta says more about the situation than his assurances.

Luckily your reach the islands of Kenst Hjerte without incident. The crew stay on the ship, as you and Aleksander row out to shore on a small longboat.

Aleksander seems to be familiar with the area, as he leads you through the trees towards a rocky path. He holds onto your hand as you climb over the trail, taking care not to stand on any loose stones that might send you tumbling down.

It’s only once you reach the top of a large hill, that you realise what your destination is.

A small chapel.

The sharp wind whips at your coat, and you step closer to Aleksander as you walk along the cliff top towards the chapel.

There’s some sort of greeting painted above the door, but you can’t read Fjerdan and the faded blue letters are peeling. Aleksander pushes open the door, and you follow him inside.

There’s five rows of benches on either side of you as Aleksander walks down the aisle determinedly. You look around you, it doesn’t look like anyone has visited in quite some time.

“It’s pretty.” You say softly, not wanting to break the delicate silence that hangs around you.

Aleksander hums in acknowledgement as you tilt your head back to look up at the pearls and shells that adorn the ceiling.

“In my world, we have these mythical creatures called sirens, who lure sailors to their deaths with their songs.”

“That sounds rather like Ulla.”

“Good for her.” You remark absently as you continue to admire your surroundings. Then you look at Aleksander with a frown. “What are we doing here?”

“They’ve redecorated in the time since I last visited.” Aleksander muses as his fingers trace over a wooden panel in the wall.

He nudges it carefully, and there’s a click before the panel swings open to reveal a dark tunnel. Aleksander turns back to you with a triumphant look on his face, and he holds a hand out towards you.

You raise an incredulous brow at him, and he breathes out a laugh.

“It’s perfectly safe.”

“Maybe two hundred years ago. How do you know there hasn’t been a collapse in the middle?”

“I suppose we will find out.”

Shaking your head at him, you accept Aleksander’s hand and follow closely behind him as he ducks down into the tunnel.

When the darkness closes in, you tighten your hold on Aleksander’s hand. You feel his shadows around you, guiding you along the uneven ground and steadying you when you wobble.

The sound of water dripping down is what you hear first, then you’re stepping out into a large underground cavern. A thin beam of sunlight falls down from a crack above you, though it doesn’t provide much light.

Despite the lack of light, you still see her. A young woman, with black hair twisted up into intricate braids above her head. She’s sitting in front of a small pool of water, scooping up handfuls of the sparkling liquid and letting it run over her bare arms.

Her skin is a rich bronze, and a web of pale scars weave their way along her arms and up her one side of neck, tracing over the edge of her face on her left side. You had read the story of Sankta Ursula, but Aleksander had told you Ulla’s real story.

Betrayed by her best friend, she was burnt during a forbidden ritual to create fire that would live underwater. In response to the betrayal, she had used her spellsong to summon a fierce storm that had cracked the land in two, creating the island that you are currently standing beneath.

Aleksander moves forward.

It’s only once you get closer to her that you realise she’s humming a tune. A delicate noise that is wholly unlike anything you’ve ever heard before.

“Hello sister.” Aleksander says quietly.

Despite your sudden appearance, she doesn’t startle, and she doesn’t look up as she speaks, her voice rich and smooth.

“I didn’t realise you were due a visit so soon.”

The corner of Aleksander’s lips twitch into a half smile.

“It’s nice to see you too.”

“What do you want?”

“We need your help.”

At that, Ulla looks up and her dark eyes settle on you. She tilts her head aside slightly, watching you carefully for a moment, before her gaze falls back to Aleksander. She raises a singular brow.

“We?” Aleksander ignores her question.

“I need the heart of Sankt Feliks.”

Something like mischief sparkles in her eyes as she turns her attention back to the water, tracing shapes over the surface.

“Do you now?” She muses thoughtfully.

He sighs softly, raising a brow at her.

“Do you have it?” The corner of her mouth twitches with a smirk.

“Perhaps.”

His brows lift even higher, exasperation touching his features and she laughs, a soft yet wicked laugh. Dusting her hands off, she rises and steps towards the two of you.

She’s wearing a dress of deep purple with a torn hem, that hangs from her shoulders by fraying straps, as she cares little for human clothes.

“I have it.” She says.

Aleksander steps forward to follow her as she moves towards a gap in the cavern’s wall. Ulla stops, her hand held up to prevent him from coming any closer.

She raises a dark brow at him.

“You know my rule. I only bargain with mortals.”

The two of them exchange a firm look, and you realise that the siblings share the same stubbornness. Whilst they might have a few centuries spare to win a staring contest, you certainly don’t.

“I’ll go.” You offer, and they both turn to look at you.

Aleksander squeezes your hand firmly, to which you smile and nod in reassurance. Ulla regards you with an unreadable expression and you hold your breath as her dark eyes study your face. Then, without any sort of reaction, she says,

“Follow me.”

She turns away, and you glance over at Aleksander.

“I’ll be fine, Sasha.” You whisper, squeezing his hand one final time before you turn and follow Ulla, deeper into the cavern.

A nervous smile flickers over your lips as she pauses for you to catch up, her dark eyes fixed on your face once again. You aren’t walking for too long until you reach another, much smaller, cavern.

Rocky shelves have been carved into the walls, which stretch almost all the way up to the top, where you can see a glimmer of sunlight shining down to illuminate your every step. On each shelf there’s all manner of objects.

“Wow.” You whisper in pure awe.

Throughout the space, there’s tables and cabinets dotted around, and the whole area looks like an antique store. Ornate chests and pieces of furniture, that look like they’re from a variety of different eras, are scattered about and you wander through them.

Sparkling gems, gold coins and dazzling pieces of jewellery sit in velvet boxes and carved wooden bowls. There’s mountains of books stacked in a few different corners, alongside paintings leaning precariously against some other valuable object.

Ulla seems to know exactly where she’s headed, but you are becoming increasingly distracted. You stop in front of a beautiful looking box.

There’s a delicate painting of a starry night at sea across the lid, deep blues and indigos brightened by the small dots of white starlight. The edges of the box have been adorned with silver embellishments that you’re itching to smooth your fingers over. But you hesitate.

“You can touch, you know.” Ulla remarks indifferently, stepping back to look at the box which had caught your interest. You raise a brow at her.

“It won’t curse my soul for eternity?” A dark smirk spreads over her lips.

“The only thing here that can curse you is me.”

You glance up at her, seeing the sharpness in her eyes, and you swallow nervously.

“Noted.”

She smiles, a little softer.

Picking up the box delicately, you examine the details of the craftsmanship and once you’ve turned it around you notice a windup key at the back. Giving it a few turns, a melodic twang sounds from inside the box, and you set it back down before you open it.

A beautiful, delicate tune sings out from the mechanisms inside.

“It’s lovely.” You say in a soft voice.

“A woman gave me that in exchange for a beauty that could entice any man she wished. I believe it belonged to her sister.”

You frown.

“This is what she held most dear?”

When Aleksander had explained Ulla’s bargains to you, a music box wasn’t the kind of sacrifice you thought someone would make for their greatest ambition.

Ulla shakes her head.

“She stole it from her sister. Breaking the trust between them, and betraying the one she held most dear.”

You close the music box. A beautiful thing, with a meaningful story. Turning back to Ulla, you find her regarding you with that indescribable look once again.

“He must like you.”

You frown in confusion at her words.

“Aleksander.” She adds. “He’s never brought anyone to see me before. Not even one of his Grisha.”

She turns away, heading towards the far end of the cavern. Ducking underneath a string of cobwebs, you follow her.

Ulla reaches under a table, and drags out a rather battered looking chest. The bolts creak as she unlocks it, and the lid swings open with a heavy thump. She tugs out a few garments of clothing before she finds what she’s searching for. What you and Aleksander have been searching for.

The heart of Sankt Feliks.

It’s a dark, solid looking lump. She hands it to you, and it feels more like a large piece of bark than anything else. You try very hard to not think about the fact that this relic is rumoured to have once been an actual human heart.

Ulla nudges the chest back towards its spot under the table with a kick, before she turns back to you.

“I assume you want something in return.” You say, bracing yourself for her demand.

“Look after him.” Tilting your head aside in confusion, you watch as she wipes the dust from a pile of books. “He might be my older brother, but he certainly needs it.”

Your expression softens, and you nod.

“I will. I promise.”

She holds your gaze, her dark eyes so similar to Aleksander’s.

“I’ve learnt that promises mean very little to humans. But if Aleksander trusts you, perhaps I can believe your word.”

»»---------------------►

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[ao3feed-darklina]

by PinkColl

Alina Starkov is raised in Novyi Zem by her parents. She has always known she is the Sun Summoner, and she is in full control of her powers.

When she meets General Kirigan, he is in for a surprise, this Sun Summoner is no Saint.

Words: 4699, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo, Shadow and Bone (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, Alina Starkov, Ulla (The Language of Thorns), Nikolai Lantsov, Mal Oretsev, Ivan (The Grisha Trilogy), Fedyor Kaminsky, Genya Safin, Tamar Kir-Bataar, Tolya Yul-Bataar

Relationships: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, Nikolai Lantsov/Alina Starkov, Ivan/Fedyor Kaminsky

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Morally Ambiguous Character, Politics, alina and mal are just friends, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Aleksander is a simp, Alina is a BAMF, Yes there is a Nikolai thing but it's not endgame, Simp The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, Soft The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, Possessive The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, The Darklina Discord make the canon now