#Ignis 'Iggy' Redwood

[radiantrpshadow]

Muses Of The Radiant Shadow

Name: Aleksander Morozova/Kirigan, The Darkling Age: 2150 (a rough estimate based on the show) Family: Mother, Baghra (alive), Father (deceased), Half Sister, Ulla (alive)

Character Fandom Origins: Shadow & Bone Multiverse Muse: Yes Face Claim: Ben Barnes

Name: Alina Starkov Age: 19 Family: Mother (deceased), Father (deceased,

Character Fandom Origins: Shadow & Bone Multiverse Muse: Yes Face Claim: Jessie Mei Li

Name: Ezio Auditore da Firenze Age: 17-45 Family: Mother, Maria (alive), Father, Giovanni (deceased), Older Brother, Federico (deceased), Younger Sister, Claudia (alive), Younger Brother, Petruccio (deceased), Uncle, Mario (alive)

Character Fandom Origins: Assassin's Creed Multiverse Muse: Yes Face Claim: In-Game footage from AC:II and AC:B

Name: Bianca Listretti Nickname: Viper Age: 24 Family: Father (deceased), Mother (deceased), Twin Brother, Luca (alive), Half Brother, Adrian (alive) Defining facial features: scar over the left side of her lips and a scar along her right cheek Other defining features: burn scar on the right side of her lower back, arrow scars littered over her shoulders.

Character Fandom Origins: Assassin's Creed Multiverse Muse: Yes Face Claim: Madelyn Cline

Name: Elliot Astor Nickname: El, Leo Age: 26 Family: Father (alive), Mother (alive), Older sister, Lydia (alive), younger brother, August (alive), younger sister, Serafina (alive) Defining facial features: sharp jaw line, dimples on both sides of his mouth Other defining features: arms littered with freckles mostly visible in summer, two birthmarks one on the right side of his chest one on the lower side of his torso

Character Fandom Origins: Shadow & Bone Multiverse Muse: No Face Claim: Luke Pasqualino

Name: Ignis Redwood Nickname: Iggy Age: 20 Family: Father (alive), Mother (deceased) Defining facial feature: Freckles over her entire face, a small scar under her right ear Other defining features: two moles on the her left hand under her thumb

Character Fandom Origins: Shadow & Bone Multiverse Muse: Yes Face Claim: Erin Kellyman

Name: Dorotea Tiberio Age: 26 Family: Father (deceased), Mother (deceased), Uncle (alive), Bother, Cassio (alive), Half brother, Cesare Borgia, (alive), Half sister, Lucrezia Borgia (alive) Defining facial features: Light scar on her right cheek, summer freckles spread over her nose Other defining features: ragged scar over her right side over her ribs, veering off over her side

Character Fandom Orgins: Assassin's Creed Multiverse Muse: No Face Claim: Bruna Marquezine

Name: Miguel Torres Nickname: Mick, Micky, Age: 21 Family: Father (deceased), Father (alive), Mother (alive), Sister, Aela (alive), Sister, Nina (alive), Brother, Diego (deceased) Defining facial features: Slightly sunken eyes, high cheekbones, dimples, Other defining features: Burn scar on his right upper thigh, moles freckled over his lower left arm,

Character Fandom Orgins: None Multiverse Muse: Yes Face Claim: Jack Champion

Name: Chase Hernann Age: 27 Family: Father (deceased), Mother (deceased), Twin Sister, Lila (alive), Half Brother, Nico (deceased), Younger Brother, Mino (alive) Defining facial features: deep set, brown eyes, sharp cheekbones Other defining features: body littered in gunshot scars

Character Fandom Origins: none Multiverse Muse: Yes Face Claim: Charlie Cox

Multiverse Muse: a muse who can be used in different universes, but will always remain the same in terms of the characteristics listed above and a few other attributes that are central to the universe they came from. The stories they appear in do not have to be connected to one another and they will not be aware of their multiversal traveling unless it is happening specifically to the story they parttake in.

[stardustmorozov]

Half In Shadow Half In Moonlight Part 2: The Morozova Residence

Masterlist Chapter 1: The Road To Moonacre | Next

Summary: After his father gets killed in the Ravkan Civil war, Aleksander is forced to go live with his mother in the country side, where he discovers more about his past and an old family feud that is going to destroy the valley if he doesn’t find a solution...

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Ignis 'Iggy' Redwood Warnings: Aleksander is still grieving, likely will continue to do so for the next couple of chapters Word count: 2989

Taglist: @agirllovespancakes @ramadiiiisme @miraclegrisha @blanchedelioncourt @salfira-xd

The night had fallen over the valley by the time they reached the Morozova estate, both men were exhausted as they practically fell out of the carriage, finding just enough strength in their legs to support themselves, dragging what little baggage they had from the roof and made their way to the door, where Aleksander could make out a human figure in the doorway and he figured it was his mother, from what little his father had told him about her, she had the same flair for dramatics as him.

"How was your journey?" the woman asked when they were close enough to properly see her in the dim light of the house behind her.

"Long." answered Ivan, "but good."

Both men shared a look and Aleksander nodded in confirmation, deciding to say nothing of the attempted kidnapping as she motioned them to come inside.

In the salon burned a fire in the fireplace, which seemed to be the light they had seen from the doorway and a giant white dog in front of it, which perked up when it noticed the newcomers and growled deeply, its red eyes making the animal even more intimidating as both Ivan and Aleksander took a small step back at the sight of it.

"Don't worry, you are a Morozova. He won't hurt you," she said without looking back at them as she made her way to the adjacent hallway and they quickly followed, not feeling the need to stay in the same room with the dog for longer than necessary, as it was clear to the both of them that she had only spoken to Aleksander.

The hallway was long and the shadows seemed a sinister thing to the both of them as they followed the old woman, who, despite her confinements to a cane, kept quite the pace, seemingly not at all affected by the gaping darkness.

"Mister Kaminsky, your room is over there," she said as she stopped, pointing her cane into the night covered hallway, before she turned back to Aleksander. "Sasha, your room is over here."

It took Aleksander a second to realise she was addressing him and instantly, his thoughts were back in Os Alta, in the warm summer where he played outside with his father. He'd never called him Sasha. It was always Aleks, Al or his full name if he was in trouble, but never Sasha. He wondered why.

His mother led him up a small spiral stairway before stopping at a door half his size. The little foreroom smelled dusty, but he was too tired to think much of it.

"Here you go, I'll see you in the morning."

Her words weren't friendly, but they weren't entirely cold either and Aleksander was too tired to argue her tone like he would have if they'd arrived late in the afternoon, so he simply waited until she'd descended the stairs again before he let out a weary sigh.

At worst she'd given him a closet to sleep in, but despite all his father had told him about her -which wasn't much- she didn't seem like the person to let her own son sleep in that kind of environment.

The door of the room opened smoothly and to his surprise, it led to a spacious bedroom.

The ceiling was decorated with stars that reflected the night sky and the walls were richly decorated with lush forests, grasslands and animals he recognised as living amplifiers. Some of them dead, some of them alive, others mythical, speculated to even exist.

Against one of the walls there was a bed he was sure he could easily fit himself on at least three times and at its end there was a fainting couch, made of darkened oak and grey velvet fabric.

Without much thought for the rest of the room, he put his suitcase on the couch and popped the locks open.

And there was the book again, silently staring at him. Daring to be touched again.

The worn leather felt strange under his fingers now that he wasn't overcome by grief or anger. Instead, he felt a sense of -what was it?- sadness? Longing or belonging? Whatever it was, he couldn't give it a name as he sat down on the edge of the bed with it.

The first pages of the book were blank, like most of the books he lended from the library back home.

The third page was the one that yielded its first real text and Aleksander could recognize the handwriting of his father anywhere.

For my son, if I don't live to teach him everything he has to know from these pages. The words stung like a dagger in his chest and he could feel tears well up in his eyes as his vision got blurry, but he was quick to wipe the tears away as he turned to the next page where he was surprised to find a photo of both his father and his mother together.

His father was putting a kiss on his mother's temple as she smiled widely, her then black hair tied in an intricate braid and she looked to be leaning into it. Fully enjoying the moment.

They looked happy and for a few long moments, Aleksander felt jealous that he never knew them like that. That they never shared that happiness when he had been in the world. That he'd never have a childhood where both his parents had been present. And happy.

He quickly flipped the page where he found the first technique to summon the shadows and the small note his father made next to it tugged on his heartstrings.

The next two techniques had the same little notes next to them. Inked words telling him he had mastered it, his father silently telling him how proud he was and as he reads on, he sinks further and further into his own thoughts.

"Papa, papa! Look!" Aleksander ran over the grass in the backyard as fast as his legs could carry him, careful not to trip and make the small puff of black smoke in his hands disappear.

"What is it Al?" his father's voice was warm and friendly as he knelt down in front of his son, amused by his enthusiasm.

"Look!" he said excitedly as he pushed the small puff up to the man in front of him.

"Well well, my little boy can summon the shadows now huh?" he'd said as he ruffled Aleksander's hair, making both of them laugh.

"Will you help me?" he'd asked, still full of wonder.

As he read on, the memories changed from the time he spent with his father to how hard he'd worked to master the tricks and abilities described on the pages, but as he kept on turning the pages, fewer and fewer techniques had his fathers notes next to them.

Some of them he had mastered, but some were entirely new to him.

He realised it was because he went to the frontlines as Aleksander remembered practicing one of them alone in the empty house, feeling frustrated and angry when he couldn't get it right and the loneliness of not having someone to calm him, to tell him he was making progress and that he would get there eventually.

Of course Ivan had been there, but it was not the same.

They'd written each other over the months that he had been at the front, hiding the gambling from the paper, though his drinking habits had sometimes shined through. He'd told his father off a in a couple of letters, but it seemed to have had little use.

Tears welled up again as he turned the pages, both reminiscing old memories and feeling the guilt of never having been able to practice all that was written on the pages with him.

His fingers trembled every so slightly as he turned each page, from the rage against the war that took his father's life, from the emptiness he felt in his absence.

Then the book suddenly ended, the last few pages ripped out, like his father had been ripped from his life. It felt poetic and heavily ironic at the same time and he couldn't help the sinking feeling that set in. The feeling that he wanted to fall back into the sheets under him and disappear in them, never to return.

He decided it best to put the book away and get some sleep, not that he thought he would get much of it. Ever since his father left he'd had trouble sleeping, and he doubted this night would be any different, but he'd resigned himself to it as he put the book back in his suitcase and got his nightwear out of it.

A star fell from the ceiling and as his eyes followed it, he was surprised to see its timing line exactly to a star he could see falling from his bedroom window.

Funny, he thought to himself, though he doubted that it would happen again as he got under the covers and sleep took him quickly.

There was a soft seabreeze tickling his skin, the cold, wet stone of a cliff underneath his feet, a pair of soft hands holding his, as if to reassure him and angry faces he did not recognise.

He could not see the face of the person who was holding him, their features blurred and when they spoke, their voice unrecognisable, words melting into each other, yet he understood them perfectly.

He needed to get away, far from where he stood now, with a familiar pain in his chest, the hands letting go of him, not expecting to ever feel them again.

Aleksander woke up panting from the dream, as if he had been running for miles on end. His lungs were burning and it took him a great deal of effort to slow down his own breath, the images of the dream still clear in his mind.

Or were they from the past? A vision from what happend and would likely happen again if the fates would have their way?

He didn't know and he didn't want to think about it as he dragged his still tired body out of bed, wondering how he still had the energy for it as the images from the night were burned into the back of his mind.

It was only after he went looking for his clothes that he noticed a glass of cold milk on his bedside, the cold still evident on the glass as a few droplets made their way down. Beside it was a little gingerbread cookie in the shape of a star and Aleksander wondered who put it there.

He was certainly not a heavy sleeper and the idea of someone coming this close to him when he was so vulnerable unnerved him more than he wanted to admit to himself, but he saw no harm in consuming it. Given the likelihood that it was probably one of his mothers servants that put it there.

The thought made him smile. He didn't hold it likely that his mother would have asked one of them to give him something and the fact that they did anyway warmed his heart in a way that felt like it had been forever ago.

When both the milk and the gingerbread were gone, he turned back to look where he'd dropped his clothing the evening before, which were laying where he left them, or at least in close vicinity of where they had been.

The chair in which he had dropped them now bore a deep black Kefta, embroidery of the same color with hints of silver stretched over the fabric like dark tentacles while his own clothes laid neatly folded on the little table beside it.

The coat felt soft yet sturdy beneath his fingers, and the silver slivers glinstered in the morning sun as he moved them across the fabric. It had clearly been made by someone who was more skilled with fabrics than any seamsters he met in Os Alta and judging by the state of the coat, someone had either recently made it, or taken good care of it for all of the years it hadn't been worn.

His own clothes looked somewhat pitiful in comparison, but the dark Kefta seemed far too strange to actually wear. None of the people he'd seen in passing on his way to the villa wore them, nor did they wear the black that covered the fabric of this one.

He smiled at it. As if there would ever be a time where he could openly display his status like this. To not be shunned and chased away for simply being who he was.

No, he could not wear something like that. Maybe when old wounds had healed a little more and the past seemed more like a grotesque painting than a haunting demon breathing down his neck.

Descending down the stairs, he was not pleased with all the dust that seemed to have gathered on its steps and as he looked at the walls he realised the house was far older than he had noticed when they arrived. He silently wondered if his mother had suffered the brunt of the war as well, forcing her to dismiss most of the staff.

Of course he also knew the estate had been in his family for nearly seven generations now, but seeing the cracks in the walls and the pale, scaled off wood of the window frames made it all the clearer that the house was not aging very well.

Which stood in contrast with what he always heard from his father.

He'd always told him his mother was meticulous when it came to the care for the house, always repairing cracks in the walls and repainting window frames when they showed visible wear.

Though they had been young then, and though her later years clearly confined her to a cane, he would not be surprised if she'd still try and maintain the house the same way she had in the past.

As he walked through the salon from the previous night, he noticed the fire was still burning in its hearth, though to his relief, the dog was nowhere to be seen.

In the hall his mother was waiting for him, both exchanging 'good moring's before she motioned him to the dining hall where Ivan had already started his breakfast as the two joined him at the table.

One of the servants put a well filled plate in front of him and even though it smelt better than anything the cooks in Os Alta had ever put before him and the sight of it made his stomach growl, but Aleksander felt no desire to touch any of it.

Though he knew that if he did not eat now, he would collapse halfway through the day. Something he had learned the hard way.

As he picked away at his breakfast, he could hear the house and the nature around it come to life and he wondered what secrets it held for him to discover.

Secrets he soon discovered would have to wait as his mother called him and Ivan for a tour of the house. As they passed several corridors and hallways, most of them were pointed off limits, though to his relief the library was freely available for both of them.

Rain clattered on the windows of the Morozova residence as Aleksander slowly made his way between the large shelves, his own footsteps inaudible on the carpet that adorned the pathways as the leather of his new book sat strangely insistend on his fingertips.

He'd planned on putting it somewhere on these shelves, hoping it would give him less of a feeling of guilt, but now the book seemed to be all he could concentrate on. The worn spines of the books in the library simply glided by under his free hand as he tried to find the correct section to put the book under, but unlike the libraries back in Os Alta, this one seemed to have no categorisation to it. fiction and non fiction stood together like they had always been meant to be there and genres seemed to be of little importance to whomever had put the books on their shelves.

He couldn't imagine it being his mother, given her meticulous care of the house and the gardens around it when she was younger and the only books his father seemed to have been interested in were not ones he could find among the shelves so far.

Giving up the search for the order in the chaos, Aleksander settled in one of the windowsills as the rain and the cold that came from the glass surprisingly fitted his mood. Empty, grey and cold.

Not feeling up for reliving his childhood memories another time, he quickly flipped the pages to where he thought he'd left off with his studies.

As he read on, he played with a wisp of shadows between his fingers, the feel of it comforting him in the fact that not everything had changed. That no matter what happend, some things would always stay the same.

The technique he was studying before he suddenly had to leave everything behind was a complicated one, but if he could get it right, he would be able to see places he could never travel without ever having to leave the place that bound him.

The technique relied on another one that Aleksander had mastered years ago and although he knew he was a little out of practice with it, with a little brushing up, that problem would be solved in no time at all.

But that would be a task for another day as he wistfully stared out of the window, wondering what more there was on this plot of land in the middle of nowhere.

[stardustmorozov]

Half In Shadow Half In Moonlight Part 3: The Sun, The Shadows And The Amplifiers

Masterlist Chapter 1: The Road To Moonacre | Previous | Next

Summary: After his father gets killed in the Ravkan Civil war, Aleksander is forced to go live with his mother in the country side, where he discovers more about his past and an old family feud that is going to destroy the valley if he doesn’t find a solution…

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Ignis ‘Iggy’ Redwood Warnings: none Word count: 2167

Tag list: @agirllovespaghetti @ramadiiiisme @miraclegrisha @blanchedelioncourt @salfira-xd

Over the hour that Aleksander had studied the book with summoning techniques, the rain had started to pour even harder out of the sky and he could barely see the flower beds that laid not that far from the walls he hid himself in.

Slipping out of the window sill he searched the shelves for something he wanted to read, but he was unsuccessful until the glimmer of a spine caught his eye. It had no title and no illustration to indicate its topic and it intrigued Aleksander all the more.

Fishing it out between the other, tightly packed books, he discovered that the color of it changed as he moved it around. From black to silver and the faintest hint of something golden in between the phases of the colors.

Intrigued by the mysterious cover, Aleksander took the book back to his previous reading spot. Upon opening the book however, he couldn't find a single word inked onto the pages and neither were there any illustrations to look at. Flipping through the pages he could find no indication there had once been ink on the papers. Perhaps the librarian had misaccounted a notebook for a piece of fiction and he wouldn't blame them, whomever they were.

He looked out of the window again, the rain still pouring mercilessly out of the sky in thick droplets, but the grey haze that hung over the land earlier had mostly cleared up and the bright yellows and oranges of the forest canopy nearby drew his attention, momentarily forgetting about the book in his lap. He could swear he heard a faint voice in his head, beckoning him to come to the trees.

Aleksander scoffed at himself for the silly notion. Adventure had never been for him, much preferring the quiet of a study and piles of books for days.

Turning his attention back to the empty, bound pages in his lap he flipped through it again, foolishly hoping either text or illustrations would have appeared in the time that it had been closed. The texture of the paper felt strange under his fingers and he traced over the pages as he took in the feeling of them.

At his touch, a watercolour bloomed onto the page, depicting the valley from above with the bright orange and yellow forest canopy and the lush greens of the fields that resided in the valley, before suddenly moving back to the beginning of its own volition, startling Aleksander.

Shaking off the initial shock, he moved his fingers over the empty pages and another illustration bloomed to life. This one depicted a dark beach, only lit by the full moon that graced the heavens and two figures, walking along the water line.

He did not know who they were, he could only hope they weren't his parents.

The next page showed two large animals, A white raven and a black unicorn. Aleksander was taken aback by the color switch, wondering what had caused them to lose their signature colors, his fingers touching the illustration ever so carefully as if he were afraid the ink would bleed.

As he turned page after page, he came to the realization that the book wasn't going to give him any words. He had to figure it out himself.

Then, on one page, two people appeared, their backs turned to him as they each looked upon a respective parts of the valley. A dark haired boy over the forest, and a red head girl over the fields and Aleksander felt the strange sense that he knew them somehow and upon closer inspection, he recognized the girl.

Maria Merryweather. A sun summoner.

Then the boy... Could it be? If the girl was indeed whom he thought she was, then the boy had to be Robin de Noir.

The next few pages depicted them moving throughout the valley, yet their faces remained obscured from him, either because they weren't facing the painter or because of some element that obscured his view of them. At last they came to a cliff side, one that felt vaguely familiar to Aleksander, but he could not remember where as the thought scratched at his memories.

On the cliff itself were the two animals again, the raven and the unicorn. And despite having seen them earlier in the book, he was still taken aback by their inverted colors. In between the two creatures stood what he assumed was a woman, her hair as white as the moon that surrounded her, the rest of her features obscured by the bright light, her dress seeming to dance around her in the sea breeze.

The next picture showed an open hand, presenting a bracelet made, from what looked like the horn of the unicorn, a shimmering opal inserted in its middle. The other hand held a necklace, clearly made from bones and Aleksander wouldn't be surprised if they were from the raven. And this one too, had an opal laid at its core.

Amplifiers.

As the thought crossed his mind, the soft tug from earlier pulled on his heart again. Yearning to be under the colorful leaves of the forest.

Tucking both books under his arm, Aleksander decided to go back to his room and unpack what little he'd managed to take with him from Os Alta.

Home.

It stung him to think about it again, the place he had left behind in exchange for this, this crumbling thing that was supposed to be his family home. At least back in the city he had a few friends, here he had no one. He thought of writing them, explaining why he'd suddenly left the city and perhaps that he wasn't coming back. At least, not within any reasonable timeframe and the sound of his footsteps reverberating in the empty hallways served only to enlarge that feeling.

The room was unchanged when he entered, much to his relief. The greens of the painted forest and fields gave him some peace of mind, but the hollow heaviness that had gotten a hold of him didn't leave. Popping the suitcase open again, he moved the clothes into one of the dressers, not caring much if they were sorted and folded correctly before moving on to the small stack of books he'd managed to fit in. Maybe he could go back somewhere in the next month, get the rest of his possessions moved.

Not that he had much in the first place, since most of the furniture in the house was his father's, but there was a lingering feeling of ownership over the things in his old bedroom. The books that lined the walls and the shelves that held them, the lamps on the sides of his bed and so there were a million more things he wanted to save from the auctioneers hands.

The few books he'd managed to stash in with his clothes got a place on the desk, the window above it looking out over the fields of the valley and in the distance, the canopy of the forest, once again beckoning him.

"This place is driving me insane," he muttered as he turned to take a look at the room in a way he hadn't before. The many animals that populated the greenery on the walls seemed to look at something he couldn't see, or worse, some seemed to look at him, no matter where in the room he stood.

Had they been doing that since he got here? If they had, he'd been too tired to notice.

The rest of the trinkets in the suitcase were moved to anew place quicker than Aleksander would have liked and found himself staring at the ceiling as he laid on the giant bed. Above him, the stars still faintly shone against the bright grey clouds now that it had finally stopped raining.

It took a while for Aleksander to notice, but as soon as he did, he shot up, remembering one of the techniques he'd seen in his father's book. If the weather kept favorable long enough, he maybe would even have enough time to squeeze in another trick he wanted to master.

Once down stairs again, he found the halls eerily quiet. No sound that indicated in any way that the house was inhabited by living beings and it made him long for Os Alta. For the long, cobbled roads, the children that were always running from place to place, screaming with laughter; And of course his friends. What had transpired in the city while he had been so abruptly forced to leave?

Part of him wanted to know as the sickly grey walls suddenly seemed to close themselves in on him and part of him didn't. The latter simply wanting him to disappear in an endless void where he could simply float and be far from misery. To be in a place where the war didn't exist and neither the rest of the world.

The outside air was somewhat chilly, but it wasn't unpleasant to Aleksander as he looked for a dry spot to put the book up. The rhythmic falling of water droplets showing how recent the rain had truly stopped. Eventually he found one under a small back and after some figuring, he had the book in a position it both stood and kept on the right page before stepping back and starting on the older technique.

It took a few tries to get it right again and Aleksander was surprised on how far he'd actually slipped back in his practice, but once he was confident that he had the technique under control again, he turned his attention to the instructions on the pages.

The first few steps were simple enough that he mastered them without much trouble, the shadows only occasionally exploding in his face or ricocheting around the garden before disappearing to where they came from.

The rest of the technique was complicated enough that after about an hour of trail and error, Aleksander decided he'd done enough studying for the day as the sun started to break through the heavy clouds. The warmth of the bleak rays gave some comfort from the cold air around him, the hollow feeling that had been in his chest since he arrived dissolving a bit as he soaked the heat up.

Somewhere behind him came the sound of something tapping towards him, but he paid it no mind, some part of his imagination drifting back to Os Alta and his friends. To the gardens they'd spent hours in, perfecting their techniques, helping each other and of course there was the dog one of them owned. Aleksander could never remember its name and had always called them 'pupper', 'buddy' or 'darling' the latter of which the rest of his friends always laughed at, but he couldn't be bothered by it. If he were honest, it was their fault for giving it a name so ridiculous that he couldn't remember it.

He was ripped out of his fantasy when a wet nose pressed up against his hand and to his surprise it was his mother's dog. Its red eyes still intimidated him, but unlike the night they arrived, the dog didn't seem to be all that malicious as it backed away to pick up a stick. With the wagging of its tail and the way it seemed to present the wet branch, it almost seemed like they wanted to play.

With the book forgotten behind him, Aleksander slowly reached for the stick and to his surprise, the dog let go of it as soon as he pulled back, the wet bark feeling weird against his skin and without thinking much of it, threw the stick somewhere in the garden, the dog disappearing after it as he did.

He smiled as he watched the white blur race over the dulled grass and paved pathways. However much things seemed to have changed, there was little he could say to deny the joy that ran through him in that moment as he watched the dog excitedly bounce back to him.

How long he stayed outside to play with it, Aleksander didn't know, but by the time he went back inside, his arm hurt from the amount of times he'd thrown the stick and he felt happier than he could have imagined since he left the city.

With the book tucked under his arm he made his way back to his room, occasionally petting the dog who seemed to insist on accompanying him.

"I say we try and find a kitchen somewhere, get something to eat," Aleksander muttered to himself more than anyone else but the soft bark that sounded next to him said otherwise. "You probably intimidate the poor cook into giving you a nice bone, don't you?" he laughed before rounding the corner, the hallways still as quiet as when he first went out to practice; Though they felt less empty now that his mother's dog was keeping him company.

[stardustmorozov]

Half In Shadow Half In Moonlight Part 4: Dogs & Gingerbread

Masterlist Chapter 1: The Road To Moonacre | Previous | Next

Summary: After his father gets killed in the Ravkan Civil war, Aleksander is forced to go live with his mother in the country side, where he discovers more about his past and an old family feud that is going to destroy the valley if he doesn’t find a solution…

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Ignis ‘Iggy’ Redwood Warnings: none Word count: 1828

Tag list: @agirllovespaghetti @ramadiiiisme @miraclegrisha @blanchedelioncourt @salfira-xd

The kitchen was, to Aleksander's surprise, close to the room his mother had given him and cautiously he stuck his head around the door post, half expecting to have a kitchen utensil thrown in his direction as soon as the staff there noticed him while the dog walked right past him with a wagging tail.

The space was brightly lit by the light form the outside, despite the clouds that still hung above the estate and the colorful pots, pans and cloths that laid around everywhere gave the room a lighthearted feel that seemed to be absent in the rest of the house.

Aleksander let his fingers glide over the tiled counter as he slowly walked further into the kitchen, still expecting someone to pop up and scream at him to leave as he observed the mountain of dishes that stuck out of the sink and the seemingly exploded flour bag where someone was clearly trying to bake a cake. And now that he looked a little better, the entirety of the kitchen looked like it had exploded somewhere in someway, yet that didn't take away from the cheeriness of the room.

He was rudely pulled out of his thought when across the kitchen, a tower of pots and pans collapsed and the sound of swearing profusely erupted from next to it, making him momentarily freeze, his mind telling him to get out now that he was not yet getting yelled at and getting things thrown his way but seeing the dog walkover to whomever was swearing up a storm withheld him from it. Besides, he was still hungry.

When the swearing finally stopped, a young man dressed in the same gaudy red as some of the pans emerged from a corner Aleksander had been unable to see from his position and he was surprised to see he didn't look much older than him, though between Grisha it was always hard to tell.

"Afternoon," he greeted Aleksander, starting to pick up some of the pots and pans that had fallen over and put them in a spot he couldn't see, pointing at them as if he were scolding a child before turning back.

"Sorry about that," he said sheepishly, "they seem to have a mind of their own sometimes.”

His gaze followed the young man as he moved through the kitchen, mumbling as he passed one mess after the other before he finally seemed to notice the dog that had been attentively following him and with affectionate annoyance gave him a large bone which he immediately stormed off with.

"So what's your fancy?"

"Sorry?"

The man chuckled. "Do you want something to eat?"

"Yes please. If you have something available," he quickly added, "if not that is fine too."

But the man shook his head as he returned to the half finished cake batter.

"You came here because you were looking for food, no? Besides, be a shame of the cookies in the cupboard if no one ate them."

"Thanks..."

And as said, Aleksander found a tin of gingerbread cookies. The same ones he'd found by his bedside that morning, but before he could inquire about it, the young man asked him a question.

"So, what brings you to the valley? Vacation? Business?"

"Family," he answered shortly, feeling the sting he'd felt by his father's grave crop up again as he took a bite out of one of the cookies, placing the tin back in its designated spot. He glanced back at the man who now nearly had a complete cake that slid into the oven. Had he taken that long to answer or was the man just really that fast?

"Anyhow, where are my manners? I am Fedyor," he said, wiping his hands on a cloth that was still miraculously clean.

Aleksander gave Fedyor his name as he briefly looked at the door, somewhere expecting the dog to come back through to demand more snacks, which did not go unnoticed by Fedyor.

"If you're looking for Ghost, that dog won't return until he's had enough of that bone," he chuckled, grabbing something from the windowsill close to where Aleksander had taken to sit down.

"Ghost?"

"Yeah, don't ask me why. People have tried to give him a different names, but Ghost is the only one he responds to."

They continued to talk as Fedyor kept moving through the kitchen to make a dish Aleksander didn't know the name of and he found out that Fedyor was one of the few people the dog didn't seem to mind, and joked that it was most likely because he worked in the kitchen.

But the fun was interrupted by Ivan, who stuck his head around the door frame to call Aleksander.

"It's time for training. To the court yard."

"Sir yes sir," Aleksander playfully mocked him, but Ivan simply rolled his eyes, before he disappeared from the doorway.

"You know, you're always welcome here in the kitchen if you're looking for company, or snacks," Fedyor said with a wink as Aleksander almost disappeared out of the door and gave him a thankful smile before quickly making his way to the front gardens.

The air outside was still damp, but in the time he had been inside the temperature seemed to have gone up. The place Ivan had chosen to train was a simple stone circle with half overgrown flowerbeds around it.

“I suppose we'll pick up where we left off last week?” he said as he loosely held his arms up in a defensive stance and Ivan simply nodded.

"Take care with your right hook, it's predictable."

"Noted."

Without warning Ivan landed his first blow, which was quickly followed by a second, which Aleksander managed to block. The next few hits he all blocked successfully, but he couldn't find an opening in Ivan's defense to get a hit in himself.

"Aleksander, pay attention," Ivan said as he quickly jabbed the young man against his jaw, "at this rate anyone else would've beat you to pulp already."

"We both know I am far too pretty for that."

"Your attempted kidnappers seemed to have different ideas about that."

He grimaced at the implication, dodging a hook and narrowly avoided another jab that came right after.

They continued to spar with Ivan occasionally reminding Aleksander of how he should use his techniques and to keep his head in the game if he doesn't want to get beaten up.

When Fedyor called them inside for the last meal of the day, both of them were exhausted and Aleksander's mind drifted back to the mysterious book from the library.

He wonders why there are no words on the pages. If it was meant to be a picture book to tell their children their love story. Though, from what he had seen, the book contained only that of Robin and Maria. Why his mother would keep it any way was beyond him, or maybe, she'd simply forgotten the book existed.

They ate in silence and while Aleksander felt like he hadn't had a proper meal in ages, he had little appetite for the food in front of him.

When he finally dismissed himself from the table, he was surprised to see Ghost following him and he couldn't resist to scratch the dog behind its ears as he walked to his room.

As they stopped before the bedroom door Ghost gently nudged his hand with his wet nose and despite the unnatural look of his red eyes, he somehow managed to give Aleksander a pleading look.

He chuckled as he opened the door, giving way for Ghost to go first.

"Come on, get in."

The dog happily trotted into the room and made itself home before the hearth where a fire had been lit against the cold of the night. Aleksander picked up the mysterious book from his desk and let himself fall into one of the seats near the fireplace.

Opening the book where he left off, he was greeted with the sight of the two amplifiers. He knew that in order for them to work they had to wear them, yet he wondered what the function of the opal was in it all. As far as he knew the stones had no influence whatsoever over the bones they'd been laid in.

The next page showed a flurry of what he supposed was the artist's attempt at rendering shadow and sunlight dancing together. The golden reflecting of the black and the black swallowing the golden whole. It was only when he took a better look at the colors that he realized both Robin and Maria had been drawn in their opposite colors and he wondered if the amplifiers had some how switched their summoning abilities, but he dismissed the thought as soon as it popped up. Even with all that was happening in the world, that was a thought he could definitely pin on a wild fantasy.

Then the paintings switched perspective, no longer showing Robin and Maria, but instead what he assumed to be Robin's family. Despite the earlier depiction of what Aleksander assumed to be their love story, the faces of his relatives were not painted with happy expressions.

Half of the faces had no expressions at all and the ones that did looked either angry or frightened. The next one had the intertwined hands of the two lovers in the middle as the families seemed to be coming closer and closer.

More and more faces appeared angry rather than afraid and Aleksander wondered what had incited them to this as the were pictured to be separating the two lovers, closing in on Maria.

The last two pages were the only pages that contained any words and in flowy calligraphy there was written: If by the blood moon things have not been resolved, sun and shadow will be all this valley knows.

The fire danced angrily in the hearth as a particular hard gust of wind pulled over the chimney, making Ghost look at the flames and then at him, his red eyes making him look ominous as the fire reflected in them.

"What does it mean?" Aleksander wondered aloud as Ghost put his head in his lap, the weight of it comforting to him as he absentmindedly stroked the fur on its head. "I'd ask you, but you're just a dog," he chuckled, moving to get ready for the night, even if his mind was racing with all kinds of questions and sleep seemed to be the furthest thing from his mind.

Once under the covers, Ghost didn't wait for an invitation and jumped up to nestle himself at Aleksander's side, making the young man chuckle.

"Alright, alright," he said as he wrapped an arm around him, "I'll keep you company."

With his face buried into Ghost's fur, he didn't have the time to be surprised by how fast he fell asleep, dreams whisking him away as soon as he closed his eyes.