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marvelmusing · 1 year ago

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In Another Life

Lasting Connection

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Summary: A quiet afternoon resting in the fields surrounding the Little Palace leads to a discovery that strengthens the bond between you and Aleksander.

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Aleksander wakes to the sound of your voice, cooing softly,

“It’s alright, little love. Come here.”

He blinks several times as the sunlight burns into his sleep heavy gaze, and he glances down at where your head had been resting in his lap before he had evidently fallen asleep. You’re not there.

Instead, you’re lying in front of Aleksander, still within arms reach of him as you extend a dandelion tentatively towards a small rabbit. Wiggling the flower enticingly, you lengthen the stem with your power to encourage the rabbit closer.

The small creature looks a little cautious, but your gentle tone and offer of a healthy looking flower appears to have eased its concerns.

“I grew it with extra petals for you,” you say in a playful sing-song voice.

Slowly, the rabbit shifts forwards. Its dark eyes flicker over you and the flower, nose twitching as it surveys the bright yellow petals. Then it reaches forwards, biting down on the flower head.

“There we go. I know you were scared, but I’m not going to hurt you.”

With infinite care, you stroke your hand over the rabbit’s fur, providing it with some affectionate petting. As you continue to grow a patch of clover over the grass for the rabbit to feast on, you glance over towards Aleksander.

As always, his heart flutters when your eyes meet his and that sweet smile lights up your face when you realise he’s awake.

He thinks that your connection to the making at the heart of the world has given you a deeper connection to all aspects of nature - not just the plants that you can now create and control.

Aleksander has never understood the pull other Grisha feel around him. He knows they are drawn to him, like moths to a flame. They see him as something alluring to desire, as strength and power in a dangerous world, a man of guidance for them.

All of that, Aleksander sees in you.

He’s drawn to you like nothing else. You’ve been married for just over two years now and he still feels the urge to whisk you away in his arms, stealing you for himself.

It’s at this moment - as he realises how strong the pull towards you is - that Aleksander feels something inside him shift.

His eyes widen.

It appears you feel it too, because you look back at him with equally widened eyes. But you look more surprised than alarmed. He sees your shoulders loosen with a previously unnoticed tension.

“I didn’t think that would happen,” you remark softly.

Aleksander frowns.

“You expected this?”

You shake your head.

“You and Alina were supposed to have some sort of tangible bond between you. I thought it was the amplifiers, or maybe merzost. Now I’m not so sure.”

“That’s what this is?”

“I think so. Maybe it’s something else.”

Aleksander watches you as your head tilts and a familiar crease appears between your brows as you he assumes you are reaching for your power. Then something brushes against Aleksander’s power.

It almost feels like when a Grisha touches him, using his amplification for themselves, but there’s no sensation of being used. He doesn’t feel as though something is being taken from him. It feels as though something is curling up beside his shadows, at the very core of his being.

As your eyes flutter open, you move closer to him, crawling over the small patch of grass. The rabbit you had been petting continues to munch away on the clumps of clover you had created for it.

“I can feel your power,” you say softly.

Something sharp twists in Aleksander’s heart and he looks away from you, afraid to see your reaction as he asks,

“It… It isn’t hurting you, is it?”

“Aleksander.” Hooking a finger under his chin, you guide his eyes back to yours. “You would never hurt me.”

He nods in agreement instantly, fingers curling around your thigh as you settle directly in front of him.

“Not willingly.”

“I’m not afraid of you. I thought you knew that.”

His gaze flickers back up to your face and he admits rather sheepishly,

“It’s an old fear, my love.” At the sight of your brows creasing together, he adds, “That it’s only a matter of time before you see me as a monster.”

“You do know that I’m not a wholly good person, don’t you?” He shakes his head, urging you closer into his lap.

“I would disagree with that.”

Shaking your own head at him, a fond smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

“You put me on such a pedestal sometimes.”

“How can I not?” He leans forward, kissing you softly. “You’re everything to me.”

You breathe out his name between kisses, before you place a hand on his chest and nudge him backwards, preventing him from continuing to kiss you.

“Alina was supposed to be the one to kill you.”

He stills at that, his head tilted slightly as he studies your face. You have always been reluctant to talk about the death of his fictional counterpart. Aleksander doesn’t blame you for that. The thought of seeing you die brings a fierce ache to his chest that burns into his heart.

Your gaze lingers on the embroidery of his kefta as you trace your fingers over it.

“You don’t how many times I considered killing her, just so that I could sleep with the certainty that I wouldn’t lose you.” Aleksander watches as your throat bobs, swallowing down the emotion gathering there. “I never included it in my plans, but it was always there, lingering in the back of my mind.”

When your eyes drift back up to meet his, Aleksander can see the conflict in your gaze. He knows you don’t enjoy the thought of killing, and that you are fond of Alina, but he also knows that you would do it if you thought it was necessary. Just as he would, if it came down to protecting you.

“We’re the same, Aleksander.” Just as he’s about to protest, your mouth twists and you add, “Quite frankly, if I had lived through everything you have, I’m not sure I’d still be as good as you are.”

He shakes his head. Even now, your belief in his goodness stuns Aleksander. No one has ever seen him in such a light. When he was a child, Grisha and otkazat’sya alike believed he was an unnatural monster. He himself was afraid of his own power. But you look at him as if he is a marvel to behold.

“Yes you would.” Aleksander cups your face in his hand and a small smile tugs at his lips. “We’re the same, after all.”

As your own smile spreads over your face, Aleksander presses his forehead against yours. The two of you stay quiet for a long moment, relishing in the closeness. He closes his eyes, his awareness shifting from his own power to the bond between the two of you.

“I can feel your power too,” he murmurs before he adds sharply, “Saints.”

At the feeling of him shivering, you jerk back quickly, but Aleksander is quicker, pulling you back towards him. His shadows fall perfectly between the vines of your power that exist deep inside you.

“It’s so beautiful.” He watches as you tilt your head aside and Aleksander realises why you had been so ready to pull away from him. “I’m not afraid of you either.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you reach out and brush a strand of his hair away from his forehead.

“I have all sorts of poisonous plants memorised,” you tell him softly. “Foxglove, nightshade, belladonna. I know them from root to sprout to flower.”

Aleksander knows you could grow any one of those plants with a casual flick of your fingers. Even now, your power still continues to captivate him. He knows you could alter those poisonous plants, adding thorns or releasing their toxins into the air. Creativity is another trait of yours that he finds remarkable.

He also knows that you will have considered this advantage you have; you’re too intelligent to not know the extent of your power. He has no doubt that you would use this knowledge, perhaps only as a last resort, but you will always have the capability for it buried deep inside you - not unlike Aleksander’s own power.

It appears you’re thinking along the same lines as him, your voice quiet as you trace your fingertip along his jawline, daring him to hold your gaze.

“I can be just as dangerous as you.”

Aleksander leans closer, pressing his forehead against yours as his eyes remain fixed on yours. You know every part of Aleksander yet you’ve never turned away from him, and he could never turn away from you.

Instead, he smiles.

“I don’t doubt that, dearest.”

He kisses you briefly before he adds teasingly,

“Even as an otkazat’sya you were a force to be reckoned with.”

His smile brightens at the sound of your laughter.

“Do you miss it?” he asks in a low voice. When you tilt your head aside in confusion, he elaborates, “Do you miss being otkazat’sya?”

Considering his question for a moment, it doesn’t take long for you to find an answer for him.

“There were some benefits, no one paid much attention to me then. I miss being your shadow.”

He hums quietly as your fingertips trace over his jawline, your touch delicate over his features as you map out his chin, nose and cheeks.

“I prefer you by my side in the light.”

Once again, your smile steals the breath from his lungs, sunlight illuminating your features perfectly.

“I prefer it too.”

»»---------------------►

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

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

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia

#in another life au #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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marvelmusing · 2 years ago

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In Another Life

Until I Found You

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Alternate Universe!Reader

Summary: Aleksander isn’t expecting to find love in this lifetime, that is until you arrive. A.K.A: In Another Life (Aleksander’s Version).

A collection of scenes from In Another Life from Aleksander’s perspective, as well as a bonus scene.

Warnings: canon level violence and other canon themes, spoilers for the entirety of the In Another Life series, implicit injury and threat, vaguely implied sexual content.

Word Count: 11.1K

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The early morning sun is what wakes Aleksander. He blinks slowly, staring up at the ceiling for a long moment, admiring the pale ray of sunlight illuminating the decorative shapes carved into the wood above him. It’s only when a sound prickles at the edge of his awareness – the tiny movement of a page being turned in the War Room, that he remembers the events of the day before, and he remembers you.

Glancing over at the space beside him, Aleksander observes the rustled sheets and the carefully folded duvet.

He hadn’t heard you leave the bed this morning, by the state of the sheets you had experienced a restless night and didn’t want to disturb him with your departure.

It had been very early morning when Aleksander had returned, and you had seemed sound asleep then. He had dressed in his night clothes as silently as possible before lying down in the space beside you, placing a pillow to prevent either of you from imposing on one another’s space in your sleep.

A frown creases at his brows. When was the last time someone had shared his bed? Aleksander had certainly bedded people on occasion, but they never stayed the night. Once they left, his mind would fail to settle despite his sated body, meaning that would once again end up working late into the night.

Pulling himself up, he stretches his arms out in front of him in an attempt to ease the twinge of protest from his tense shoulders. It takes a moment for him to locate his slippers but once he does he slides his feet into them and makes his way towards the door leading to the hallway outside.

The door opens smoothly, allowing him to lean his upper body out from behind the wood and speak with the oprichnik posted outside, requesting a servant to bring breakfast for the two of you.

With that sorted, Aleksander shuts the door, moving through his bedroom towards the open doorway which leads into the War Room.

From your position seated at the central table, the sun casts a golden glow over your hair as you stare down at the map in front of you.

He stands on the threshold for a moment, watching you.

Aleksander has looked over the maps in this room hundreds of times. It’s refreshing to see someone take in the information with such rapt interest, though he can see the exhaustion weighing heavily on your eyes each time you blink.

“I believe you were told to rest.”

You don’t look up from the map, instead picking up another to compare the two before you provide him with an answer,

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Aleksander notices the way your gaze shifts quickly, eyes bouncing over the words in front of you as a means to escape your thoughts. He doesn’t need to ponder long before he suspects what had been troubling you.

The fact the one of his own Grisha had betrayed him, trying to kill you on the orders of his mother, upset Aleksander more than it angered him.

He won’t be able to forget the look on your face when he had entered the room during the attack, how frightened you had been, no doubt believing that he would take the side of his oprichnik. He also won’t be forgetting the way you had clung to him, relief fuelling your actions as you had pressed your face into his chest. You had held onto him like a lifeline, with all your remaining strength.

Aleksander couldn’t remember the last time someone have looked to him for such comfort. To everyone, he was a figure of fear and respect. But to you, he was safety. It had baffled him, giving him a moment of pause before he had responded, cradling the back of your head carefully.

A sigh falls from your lips, heaving at your shoulders as your fingers skim over the pages piled up to your right.

“How do you find anything in here?”

Aleksander observes the mild frustration on your face as he shrugs lightly.

“Everything has its correct place.”

Amusement warms in Aleksander’s chest at the sight of your brow lifting as you gesture incredulously towards the mountain of books, maps, and papers scattered over the table. Despite his amusement, he only allows a half smile to grace his features.

“What are you looking for?”

Something appears to have distracted you, because the sound of his question has you shaking yourself ever so slightly.

The two of you ease into conversation naturally. In this day and age, very few people would question Aleksander’s suggestions, aside from the First Army officers that have nothing to offer but criticism. It’s strange to have someone consider his ideas genuinely, and you offer you own concerns with a sensibility that impresses him. You’re quick witted and methodical, two attributes that keep the discussion flowing. Even when you aren’t speaking, Aleksander can see you thinking.

You appear to be surprised by his job offer – to stay by his side as his assistant. Whatever conflict weighs in your eyes disappears at the sound of a knock on the door.

Aleksander unlocks the door, allowing the servant in to place the breakfast tray down on the table. Once the servant is gone, Aleksander encourages you to eat.

Your arrival yesterday had been just after luncheon and by the time the evening meal was being prepared in the dining hall you had been attacked, meaning that Aleksander doesn’t know the last time you had eaten anything. From the plentiful selection you’re gathering on your plate, it must have been quite some time since you had a proper meal.

He's in the middle of reading through a report, trying not to watch you as you sample the different foods with a delighted expression on your face.

It’s your voice that draws his attention back to you, as you ask tentatively,

“You aren’t eating anything?”

At this moment, as he holds your gaze, Aleksander realises how hungry he is. At times, he skips breakfast, opting to launch immediately into his work, of which he begins consumed by, meaning that his luncheon is taken late, and dinner is typically a half-forgotten occasion.

He picks up a fresh slice of bread, still warm from the oven, and butters it delicately before he scoops up an indulgent helping of strawberry jam.

The small smile on your face is even sweeter than the sugary jam as it melts on his tongue.

As you continue with your shared breakfast, the two of you talk over plans for the upcoming days and your trip to Kribirsk.

For the first time, there’s a lull in the conversation, no doubt brought about by the thoughts weighing on Aleksander’s mind.

He stands up, examining a map that you had been studying before your breakfast, though his mind is far from the markings detailed over the paper.

From the moment you revealed who you were, and what you knew, there had been one thing on Aleksander’s mind. Even as the General he is considered the possibility of you being a spy, or the centuries-old anxieties warned him not to trust you, the small boy inside him longed to know one thing.

“You know my name.”

His voice is soft but from the heavy swallow you take he knows you heard him. From his position standing up, you need to tilt your head back to look up at him.

“I do.”

“Why haven’t you addressed me by it yet?”

He watches you as you stare down at your empty plate, spinning the porcelain slightly over the table as you consider your answer.

“You haven’t given it to me.”

At that, he remembers his mother’s warning about his true name: you don’t give it to just anyone. Aleksander has guarded his name throughout the centuries, keeping it buried, tucked away, hidden from the world. It feels as though you have a piece of him and his stomach flips at the power you have over him.

His concern eases slightly with your next words,

“I know what your name means to you. I didn’t want to assume that you would want me to say it.”

Aleksander internally admits that you are right. The thought of you using his name casually without his permission unsettles him. Though now that he considers it, he wants to hear you say his name.

You know the very worst of what he’s done, yet you’re still here, willing to help him. You know the Black Heretic, and the Darkling, but he wants you to know Aleksander too.

“Will you?” He watches you frown, brows drawing together in confusion. “Will you say it?”

For a moment, Aleksander thinks you might deny him. An indecipherable emotion flickers in your eyes, but you’ve pushed it away before he can give it any further scrutiny.

When you finally do speak, it’s in a near whisper.

“Aleksander.”

His breath catches. He thought he was prepared to hear it. But from your lips his name takes on a whole new meaning. It sounds like a promise.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Aleksander doesn’t ask about your nightmares. Every night since you had arrived at the camp in Kribirsk you had awoken with a sudden jerk. If you wanted to share them with him, he knows you would. Instead, he offers an empty seat beside him as he works.

On the nights you seem too lost in your thoughts, to the point in which tears begin to fill your eyes, he distracts you with paperwork, giving you simple sorting tasks to occupy your mind.

He tells you about the meetings he had suffered through without you by his side. He tells you about General Zlatan’s predecessor, who in the last few years of his career would regularly fall asleep, sometimes midway through a long-winded speech. It’s a relief to hear your laugh in these moments.

Some nights your thoughts aren’t as vicious. At times such as those, all Aleksander does is offer his presence. The scratch of his pen against paper and the rain hitting the roof of the tent helps to remove the tension from your body. Aleksander pretends not to notice your sleepy eyes studying his face as he works, the candlelight being the only source of light to illuminate his features.

It's only once your eyes begin to flutter closed that Aleksander can look at you. There’s an uncomfortable twist in his chest at the sight of you looking so exhausted. He tells himself that it’s because he has a responsibility to look after you. That you’re an important part of his plan and you’ve shown him kindness and acceptance, and that is the only reason why he feels a duty of care towards you.

But when he raises a hand to extinguish the candles, plunging the room into darkness before he’s guiding you with his hands resting delicately on your shoulders, urging you into bed – his bed – he allows himself a moment to think otherwise.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

He finds himself thinking about constantly. He discovers old books that he thinks you would enjoy. He wants to ask for your opinion on the latest campaign on the northern frontlines.

Even during training with Alina, he finds his mind wandering to you. Summoning is second nature to Aleksander, meaning that as he demonstrates his power to a bewildered Alina he’s thinking about you. Just the other day, you had told him that blue irises were Alina’s favourite flower – what were your favourite flowers?

Aleksander knows that he has been busy, but he can’t help but feel as though you’ve been avoiding him, He knows that you are busy as well, whenever he does see you there’s a bundle of papers in your arms, or a stack of books pressed against your chest. Despite this, he can’t shake the feeling that something is different.

Perhaps you had heard some frightening rumour about him, prompting you to change your mind about his intentions for Ravka. Perhaps you thought he no longer deserved your help, and one day he would wake up to find you gone.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

There’s a knock at the door of his bedroom and Aleksander’s heart leaps. Whilst he hopes that you haven’t had a nightmare again, he’s grateful that he is the one you seek out when you’re distressed even with the growing distance between the two of you.

He shakes his head at himself for being so selfish. You still hadn’t shared the content of your nightmares with him, but the muffled sobs and the haunted look in your eyes afterwards made him ache terribly.

Whatever had been blooming in his chest shatters when he opens the door, revealing a nervous looking Alina. She wrings her hands together and Aleksander forces his disappointment down, drawing on some concern as he speaks,

“Alina. Is everything alright?”

She shakes her head, the trace of tears glistening in her eyes which forces Aleksander to open the door wider, encouraging her to step into his bedroom as she admits quietly,

“It’s nothing. Just a nightmare.”

Seeing her look so shaken reminds Aleksander of you.

“Would you like to stay the night?”

“Can I? I don’t want to disturb you, I just… I don’t want to be alone.”

He shakes his head lightly.

“You are not alone, Alina.”

Conflict wars inside Aleksander. He can’t deny the pull he feels towards Alina, their powers are similar in a way no one else can understand. Like calls to like after all. But then why does he feel a deeper connection with you? Why does he feel like you are his equal – his partner?

He hadn’t told Alina his true name. That alone feels like the deciding factor for his affections. She saw him as the Black General, you saw him as Aleksander.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Aleksander thought he was beyond feeling trivial emotions like jealousy. After centuries of living through countless relationships – both platonic and romantic – he has learned that the right people will give you the attention you deserve without any need for competing against others.

Then he had seen the soft smile you had given that boy, Mal. Alina’s Mal. The tracker. He had returned from Fjerda, no doubt with news of the stag. With Aleksander occupied by Alina’s training, Mal had reported to you.

When was the last time you had smiled at Aleksander? There had been something forced in your smile this morning, when Alina had stayed for breakfast with him. You hadn’t stayed, and he hadn’t seen you for the rest of the day. Until now.

Alina and Mal reunite with an embrace, leaving you and Aleksander standing apart from them. He wonders if the boy had been able to make you laugh like Aleksander had. Mentally, he shakes himself. He’s hundreds of years old, there is no need to think about Mal in such a petty manner.

Instead, Aleksander uses the opportunity to look over at you. There’s a sad look on your face; Aleksander feels as though you’re slipping away. Then your eyes lift, meeting his and a shiver runs down his spine. When had eye contact ever provoked such a response from him?

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

He doesn’t understand you.

Staring hard at the book he has discarded on your bed, he tries to focus on the words he had read – the story from your world, where he was the villain. You hadn’t told him he was the villain, though he can understand why. Villains don’t get happy endings. They don’t achieve their goal or find true love.

Aleksander doesn’t care what he has to sacrifice for his people, he has suffered before for them and would do so again. But you care. For some unknown reason, you had read this book and saw him as someone worth helping. You didn’t see him as a villain. Whatever is in store for the Darkling in these books, you didn’t want it to happen to Aleksander.

Ever since he had found the book Shadow and Bone tucked away in one of your drawers, he had been avoiding both you and Alina. His feelings regarding you both were confusing enough without adding the inner thoughts of an Alina from another universe.

Practically, he can understand why you intervened before the story could begin. From the moment he met Alina his plans had unravelled before his very eyes with every turn of a page.

What he doesn’t fully understand is your motive. In books, Alina had seen him as a villain. Why didn’t you?

He hears footsteps in the corridor, and the handle turns before the door swings open. Lost in your thoughts, it takes you a moment to process Aleksander’s presence in your room. Shutting the door behind you, Aleksander watches as you reach to unwind your scarf from around your neck, your eyes on his face as you search his expression.

Then you remark,

“This is unexpected.”

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Seeing Baghra waiting in the hallway for his return makes Aleksander feel like a boy again, running home with scraped knees. He isn’t surprised to see you standing in the hallway, helping the wounded Grisha from his traveling party as they cross the threshold. There hadn’t been many serious casualties, but you look concerned all the same. Aleksander holds the door open, shielding the worst of his injury from view.

If anyone will notice his injury, it will be Baghra, though she had stopped being concerned by the sight of his blood long ago.

The only person who notices his injury, and mentions it, is you. He hates the frightened look in your eyes as you look at the blood staining the fabric of his tunic.

You insist on him seeing a healer, and whilst he wants to remove that scared expression from your face he doesn’t want to trouble the healers. With the casualties from the ambush, they will be busy enough. Not to mention that seeing their General wounded will damage whatever morale remained after such a gruelling week.

All Aleksander wanted to do was return to his rooms, see to his injury in peace, and lie down in bed with you by his side. For months now, you had been a constant in his life, and with the concern in your eyes he knows you won’t be leaving his side any time soon. Though he certainly wouldn’t complain of such a thing. He had missed you.

When Aleksander suggests that you could stitch him up, your eyes widen, and you look ill as you breathe in shakily.

He knows you aren’t ignorant of the hardships of war, but sometimes he forgets how new you are to this world. Stitching up wounds was once a common occurrence for him, but you look terrified at the thought of such a thing.

As he holds your gaze, the last of the adrenaline fuelling him fades away. He isn’t sure if it’s because he is finally home, or if he no longer has to watch out for his comrades, but the pain that had softened to a dull throbbing now sears through his side.

He suspects that his body simply doesn’t want to hide his pain from you.

At the sight of Aleksander’s nod, you step away. Once you’ve ensured that he can make it to his rooms safely, you head off towards the infirmary. No words are exchanged between you and Baghra as you breeze by her.

His mother’s face isn’t easy to read but he recognises the disapproval in her eyes.

“You’re getting attached, boy. To an otkazat’sya of all things.”

Aleksander bristles. You are more than just an otkazat’sya and deserve far better than being referred to as a mere thing by his mother.

He looks down at the smudges of blood on his fingertips before he straightens his kefta and raises his chin.

“As always, Mother, your concern is appreciated.”

She scoffs.

Aleksander watches as she tilts her head slightly, almost looking towards the direction in which you left.

“That assistant of yours is different from the others.”

A soft smiles traces over his mouth as he thinks about you.

“I know.”

She narrows her eyes at him.

“I didn’t say that was a good thing.”

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Despite the rather adorable pout on your face, Aleksander hates seeing you cold. The way you wrap your arms tightly around yourself, your jaw clenched as you fight the chattering of your teeth.

But it provides him with an excuse to nestle his body beside yours in the makeshift cot in his tent during your journey into Fjerda in search of the stag. Sharing body heat – that was his reasoning.

Of course, the two of you had shared a bed before, countless times. But there had always been a respectful distance between you both when you went to bed. Granted, there were the occasional awkward morning encounters where Aleksander had wrapped his arms around your waist, or you had draped yourself over his chest.

But you had never fallen asleep purposely in each other’s arms.

With your consent, Aleksander relishes in the opportunity to run his hands over your body in an attempt to encourage warmth into you. The two of you are tucked under a thick woollen blanket as you try to gain enough warmth to fall asleep comfortably. Your skin flushes against his palms and he feels you shiver before you shift closer, into the centre of the cot, pressing your body against his side. He wants to tug you even closer, bury his face into the crook of your neck and press a kiss there. Instead, he says in a low voice,

“You can move a little closer. If you’d like?”

His face is a picture of innocence as you blink tiredly at him. Then you nod, nuzzling your face into his chest which pulls a small sound of pleasure from the back of your throat. Aleksander wraps an arm around you, feeling his own warmth begin to settle into your body.

Hopefully the tracker will be able to find the stag soon, not only so that your plans can advance, but because it means that you can return home.

Even as Aleksander reminds himself that your group is on enemy territory, he finds sleep sinking into his body, weighing heavily on his eyes as he feels your fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

When Aleksander first caught sight of you, passing through the crowd in your Winter Fete outfit, the breath had left his lungs. Time stood still as he watched you. Your gaze unfocused, and there was no doubt you were thinking over the last-minute preparations, wondering if you had forgotten anything.

Nervously, you twisted the ring sitting on your finger. You were right – the Lanstov emerald was gaudy and ridiculous and wholly undeserving of a place on your hand, in Aleksander’s opinion.

Now, Aleksander appears at your side and your attention is immediately drawn back to the present. He watches you as your eyes drag over his figure, and a thrill runs through him. His own Winter Fete outfit was nothing special. His best kefta – which had been pressed this morning – was identical to every other kefta in his wardrobe. The only reason it was his best was because the others were all worn from travelling or battle.

Nevertheless, he hopes you like what you see when you look at him tonight, because he is certainly enjoying the sight of you dressed so elegantly.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Once again, Aleksander is jealous.

This Sturmhond character is certainly charming, and the two of you have clearly established some sort of rapport after only a single meeting. Had you felt that at ease a day after meeting Aleksander?

He hopes you don’t notice how his shoulders tense as Sturmhond nudges you playfully. Aleksander can see the frown creasing at your brows as he speaks with the pirate, he knows that you’ve noticed the sharpness of his tone.

He can’t blame Sturmhond for liking you, but that doesn’t mean he has to be pleasant about it.

Despite your engagement to the Crown Prince, Aleksander had never viewed Vasily as a contender for your affections. But Sturmhond was a variable he hadn’t accounted for.

Enclosed on a ship together, would you and the pirate become close?

In his heart, Aleksander knows that you would never have a full life with him. He wouldn’t be able to grow old with you. He wouldn’t be able to give you everything you deserve. Perhaps you would be better off with an otkazat’sya, or some other Grisha. But romance appears to be the last thing on your mind, as when Aleksander mentions his observation regarding Sturmhond you seem confused.

Aleksander might regret hearing the answer, but nevertheless he asks you,

“Do you like him?”

“Who?”

“Sturmhond.”

“I met him yesterday.”

Dissatisfied with your response, Aleksander raises a brow at you, and your expression falters as you decide to give his question more thought.

“I don’t dislike him.” Aleksander watches you carefully as you speak. “I know we can trust him. That’s all I can say.”

He appreciates your honesty, but it doesn’t soothe the clawing sensation in his chest that longs to keep you for himself.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

When Aleksander was thirteen he faced a life-threatening ordeal by himself. On cold nights, sometimes he still feels the ache in his leg from where his own Cut had sliced through his skin, right down to the bone.

After Aleksander recovered from his injuries, he and his mother had left the Grisha settlement they had been staying with, heading for Novyi Zem for the very first time.

Travelling over the True Sea had made Aleksander nervous, his nightmares of being trapped under water had yet to leave him be, and the thought of being at the mercy of a few wooden planks that made up the ship they were travelling in made him feel sick.

Baghra had told him it was silliness. The water hadn’t been what tried to kill him, it was people he should be wary of, not the waves.

This is what Aleksander is thinking of when Sturmhond informs him of an oncoming storm. He thinks logically, helping to prepare the crew and his Grisha for what is to come.

When the storm does hit, Aleksander thinks he copes rather well.

That is until the third night, when he gets into bed before you. The rocking of the ship has his stomach turning uncomfortably, keeping his sleep light as he tosses and turns. The sound of the waves roaring and the covers weighing down on him has Aleksander jerking into full consciousness.

“Aleksander.”

Your voice is soft, but you’re closer than he expected, which startles him. He casts his dark eyes over your face briefly as his heartbeat remains a constant in his head.

“Are you alright?”

It’s easier to lie, so he nods his head.

Lightning illuminates the room, driving the darkness away for a mere instance, but it’s enough for Aleksander to feel frighteningly out of control. He might not have always felt comfortable in the dark, but now it meant power and safety to him.

“Is it the storm?” Your voice remains soft, as you look down at where the sheets are scrunched between his fingers. Then you ask, “Can I join you?”

There’s nothing Aleksander wants more.

Shifting over to the other side of the bed, he makes room for you. He’s aware of his heart pounding and the weight of his lungs as he tries to breathe normally. The muscle in his jaw twitches as he clenches it tight, hoping that he can wrestle it under his control before you realise how shaken he is.

He feels your fingers slide over the bare skin of his chest, and the uncomfortable prickle of anxiety that had been thrumming through his body for days, since the storm began, goes still.

A deep inhale lifts his chest as your palm drifts up to rest at the nape of his neck, weaving the short locks of his hair through your fingers delicately. When you squeeze at the tense muscle there, he feels himself go lax under your hold.

There’s another flash of lightning, shattering his momentary safe haven, which forces him to close his eyes and bury himself closer into your body in an attempt at escaping the thunder that echoes above.

His arms tighten around your waist as he hides his face against your chest. The feeling of your hands in his hair, massaging over his neck and shoulders to encourage his body into relaxing, allows him some respite.

Aleksander is lost in the tender motion of your hands and the soothing murmurs, until he hears something in particular that catches his attention.

He lifts his head up, meeting your eyes as he repeats what you had called him,

“Sasha?”

Embarrassment touches your features as you look down at the limited space between your bodies, before you stammer out an apology.

Aleksander laughs softly.

“I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?”

He doesn’t.

No one has known him as Aleksander for centuries, and now that he thinks about it, no one has ever known him as Sasha. The nickname had been used exclusively by his mother, only when he was a very small boy.

No lover, no friend, no confidant. No one.

But now there was you.

He doesn’t mind at all.

Aleksander wants to tell you all of this, what that name means to him, though he suspects you already know. Instead, he murmurs quietly,

“Baghra was the last person to call me Sasha. She hasn’t done so in a very long time.”

“And you want me to?”

He can hear the insecurity in your voice as you seek confirmation. Aleksander nods against the hollow of your throat.

“I do.”

His lips brush briefly against your skin as he speaks.

“Okay.” Aleksander holds his breath in anticipation, waiting for you to continue as you stroke your hand back through his hair. “Sasha.”

The smile he hides against your skin is wide.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

“Absolutely not.”

“We can’t let him get the sea whip.”

Aleksander’s fingers curl tight around your wrist as you almost fall into him. The deck of the ship tilts, casting your body away from him, but he doesn’t let you go far.

He knows your plan hadn’t accounted for being attacked by pirates. He knows if someone doesn’t act quickly, then all your hard work will be undone.

But he cannot let you go.

“Someone else.”

As always, your reasoning makes sense and how he wishes you weren’t right. He wishes that someone else would dive into the freezing water and solve this problem. But one look at your face and Aleksander knows that it has to be you.

Brave, brilliant you, who won’t stop at anything to succeed.

Aleksander feels as though a part of himself has been torn away, as he nods. Then he watches you leap over the side of the ship, plummeting down into the icy water below.

You reach the sea whip without incident and Aleksander keeps his eyes fixed on you. He doesn’t know what you plan to do.

Thinking practically, if you killed the sea whip then no one would be able to claim its power. But whilst you have never failed to do what is necessary, Aleksander can’t see you taking the sea whip’s life purpose.

When he sees you slicing through the ropes that bind the creature, he knows what you have decided.

His heart stops when he sees you freeze, and his blood runs cold at the sight of you clutching your chest as red spills from your nose. Sokolov has a heartrender.

Aleksander’s voice is sharp as he attracts the attention of one of the nearest heartrenders.

“Fedoyr.”

The man clad in red doesn’t need to ask what his General needs, instead he layers his palms over one another to reach for your heart with his power.

There’s a sickening moment of helplessness, as he watches your heart fail. Anxiety soars through Aleksander’s veins as Fedoyr shakes his head.

“I can’t reach, the current is carrying them too far.”

Aleksander inhales shakily, tearing a hand through his hair wildly as he begins to pace along the deck.

The sounds of fighting that continue to rage around him fade into nothing, inconsequential to the ringing in his ears.

Then Ivan appears beside his husband, brows furrowed with concentration as he clasps his hands together. Aleksander’s eyes remain fixed on you, relief filling him at the sight of you no longer gasping for air.

But you’re still in danger.

Aleksander tears off his kefta, throwing to the deck as he strides over to the edge of the ship. Shouts of protest from his Grisha go ignored as he climbs over the railing.

The sea whip bursts free as Aleksander dives into the water.

Even as he swims towards where you had disappeared under the surface, Aleksander can’t shake the fear from his body.

Inhaling deeply, he plunges under the water to grasp at your flailing body as the current weighs you down. Aleksander wraps his arms around you, pulling the two of you to the surface. He feels you struggle weakly against him, forcing him to adjust his grip.

“You’re alright.” He assures you quickly, in an attempt at easing your distress. “It’s me.”

Widened eyes meet his, as you grasp tightly onto the fabric of his shirt as you choke out a startled gasp,

“Aleksander!”

As recognition dawns on you, the fight leaves your body, allowing you to slump against his chest as he wades you both back towards the ship.

“I have you.”

Now that he has you back, he isn’t letting go.

Even when you’re back on board the whaler, Aleksander’s grip on you remains tight, the fabric of your soaked shirt held tightly in his fist.

His heart still hasn’t settled. Aleksander sits down on the deck, shaking saltwater from his hair as he watches you breath heavily. Exhaustion weighs on your eyes, the cold water dripping onto the wooden planks beneath your body as you lie down. His voice is low as he states,

“You are never to do anything like that ever again.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

He almost bristles at your flippant response. Then you pull yourself up with a wince, dropping your head down to rest against his shoulder before you murmur softly,

“I’m sorry, Sasha.”

The fright in his chest softens into relief, now that he can feel your body next to his, finally back to safety. He settles his palm over the back of your neck, keeping your face pressed against his shoulder.

In this moment, he’s reminded of the first time he held you like this – when you had been attacked in the Little Palace.

Over the centuries, Aleksander has faced countless life-threatening altercations. But he hates the thought of you fearing for your life in such a manner. Which is why he doesn’t hesitate to hold you close against his chest when the sea whip sinks Sokolov’s ship.

He watches you closely as you step in front of the sea whip. Aleksander knows that you feel safe to approach the creature, he knows that you know what you’re doing. But he also knows that something is wrong, something you can’t see. Something that has him reaching towards you, before you even realise you’re about to pass out.

Aleksander holds you steady in his arms as you slump against his chest, unconscious.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

A pain-filled whimper escapes your lips, and Aleksander’s heart twists in his chest.

Just before the healer arrived, you had a moment of lucidity but after that you had tossed and turned uncomfortably as you slept. There is nothing Aleksander can do, nothing except wait.

Nevertheless, he finds things to do. He presses a damp cloth over your forehead and down your neck. He props you up before ensuring that you drink some water.

When your fever peaks, he removes the blankets much to your distress. He cups your shaking hands in both of his, rubbing away the goosebumps that rise over your skin as you shiver.

Now that he knows what your nightmares are about, he wants to protect you from them more than ever. Which is why it is so hard to watch the sobs shaking your body as tears spill down your cheeks. He brushes them away with a careful swipe of his knuckles.

Once he finally manages to feed you the sleeping tonic, he holds you in his arms as your breathing deepens into a restful slumber. Aleksander presses his lips against your forehead, hoping that his affection might soothe you in some way.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Aleksander watches you carefully.

Zoya is by your side as you stare out over the waves, there’s no reason for Aleksander to be so concerned. But he is.

Over the past few days, you’ve regained your strength though you still look tired and pensive in a manner that only illness can make someone feel.

The necklace he had designed for you weighs heavily in Aleksander’s pocket.

Initially, the design had been merely practical. Something rare, not native to Ravka, so that a durast would be able to locate you if were wearing it. He had thought of the idea when you mentioned that Alina could have been kidnapped.

It was Genya who had inspired the design. She had asked him about Alina’s Winter Fete outfit, whether he wanted her to wear black and what sort of embellishments would he insist upon.

She had mentioned a necklace for Alina – his symbol.

Aleksander had told Genya it was Alina’s choice, whatever she wanted she could have. Meanwhile, he considered the design of your necklace. He didn’t want to be presumptuous about your relationship.

But you wore the Lanstov emerald on your finger. Aleksander wants to stake his own claim on you, even if he is the only one who knows it is there.

That is what makes him approach you now.

There’s a peculiar expression on your face, as though you had come to some sort of realisation. You reach a hand out for him, which he doesn’t hesitate to take.

“Is everything alright?”

Aleksander feels you nod as you press your face against his chest, and he wants to pull you closer. Then you murmur,

“Thank you for looking after me.”

I will always look after you. That’s what he wants to say. Instead, a nervous smile tugs at his lips as he steps back.

“I have something for you.”

A small frown creases at your brows and Aleksander’s smile softens as he retrieves the velvet pouch from his pocket.

His heartbeat is the only thing he can hear as you pull delicately on the ribbon, opening up the pouch to reveal the necklace nestled carefully inside.

Then you breathe out his name, and the world comes back into focus. The sound of the waves, the creak of wood beneath his feet, the whistling as it ruffles at his hair, it fills Aleksander’s senses. But all he can do is look at you as your eyes widen with what he hopes is wonder.

“Do you like it?”

Aleksander feels like a teenager, standing at the door of his first love with a bunch of wildflowers, hoping that you could love him.

“It’s beautiful. I love it.”

A bright smile spreads over his face, and when you ask him to help you attach the necklace he nods immediately. His fingers only shake momentarily, as he attempts to slot the clasp into place.

It might be selfish of him, to ask for your love when he will overlive you countless times over. But your reaction to the necklace has given him courage. If you want him as much as he wants you, he cannot deny you his love.

Once it is attached, Aleksander moves back to stand in front of you, revealing the luminous smile on your face.

He tells you about the design. That the metal is indestructible, a testament to his protection of you. The pearl is unique; something he had collected hundreds of years ago and kept for its simplistic beauty.

Emotion thickens in his throat as he sees tears well in your eyes, and he knows you understand the significance of his gift.

As he begins his confession, it becomes clear to him that you haven’t realised how important you are to him. Nevertheless, he continues, and Aleksander sees the moment you begin to understand what he is saying. Something like fear enters your eyes, and a tear traces its way down your cheek.

Aleksander struggles to breathe.

You mean too much to him, for his own feelings to drive you away. If you will be happier settled with an otkazat’sya, or even another Grisha, Aleksander will accept it. Not matter how much it will hurt him, he will accept it. He tells you this himself.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same, and I will bury this, and allow you to seek happiness wherever you may find it.”

He steps away, the anticipation of rejection already clawing at his heart.

“I can’t.” Aleksander’s stomach twists at the sound of those two words from your lips. He swallows hard, taking another step back. “I can’t tell you I don’t feel the same.”

He freezes.

Aleksander stares at you, watching as a smile curls lightly at the corner of your lips.

“Because you know when I’m lying.”

A small laugh jostles Aleksander’s shoulders, accompanied by a breath of relief.

You’re right.

If you had told him you didn’t feel the same, he would have accepted your word, even as a lie. He would have let you move on, deny your feelings for him until you found someone else. Someone you could grow old with.

But you hadn’t lied to him.

You feel the same and you want him as he is. An immortal Grisha with a dark power and the capability of becoming a villain. You know him better than any other person, and you still want him.

Aleksander tugs on each side of the cloak you’re wearing – one of his cloaks – his eyes falling down to look at your lips as he brushes his forehead against your own.

His voice is a mere whisper as he admits,

“I want to kiss you.”

As he watches you bite down on your lower lip, suppressing the smile that sparkles in your eyes, Aleksander’s restraint nearly collapses.

“I should probably remind you that I’m technically engaged.”

Aleksander tilts his head at you in exasperation at denying him for such a superficial reason. He knows you have no intention of marrying Vasily, and your loyalty has always been Aleksander’s.

“We both know you’re not going to marry that fool.”

As your gaze flickers to his, Aleksander thinks you might enjoy the protective edge in his voice, fuelled by possession. You belong with him.

He hooks a finger underneath your jaw, his expression softening as he asks,

“Would he make you happy?”

“Not like you do.”

A thrill runs through the entirety of his body, thrumming against his soul with every beat of his heart.

He kisses you.

Delicate at first.

Memories of the last few days linger at the forefront of Aleksander’s mind. You have only just recovered. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He relishes in the sweet sigh that falls from your lips, succumbing to the temptation of furthering the kiss as you grip tightly onto the front of his kefta.

As he tilts his head, working his lips against yours more purposefully, you drag a hand through his dark locks. Aleksander shivers as you tug on his hair before your nails scrape lightly at the nape of his neck. A startled sound of pleasure bubbles at the back of his throat, and Aleksander feels your smile against his lips.

His hands trail down, squeezing your waist as he urges you closer, and once your body is fully pressed against his, Aleksander cups your face to capture every sigh and hum of pleasure.

Once you break apart, you’re both breathless and the rush of sea air into his lungs makes Aleksander dizzy for a moment. Or perhaps he’s still reeling from your kiss.

He feels your hands untangle themselves from his hair, resting momentarily on his shoulders before you slide your palms over his chest.

How long had it been since someone desired him so authentically? Aleksander knows that all Grisha are drawn to him. Even the otkazat’sya stare at him, always a mixture of fear and attraction. But you weren’t like that.

Aleksander swallows hard as you wrap your arms around him. You don’t want the Black General, or the Darkling. You just want Aleksander.

For a moment, he can barely believe it, but then you nuzzle your nose against the hollow of his throat, pressing a gentle kiss there, simply because you want to.

He knows Ivan is standing nearby, waiting to speak to him but he needs to show you his appreciation.

Cradling the back of your head, Aleksander tilts your face up towards his, allowing to drop another kiss down onto your lips. Then another. Another. One more. He can’t stop himself. Especially when his kisses bring such a beautiful smile to your face.

Then he straightens, amusement sparkling in his eyes when he sees you frown.

“Yes, Ivan?”

Aleksander can feel the skin at the back of your neck warming with embarrassment as you wonder how much of his affectionate display had been seen by the others.

As Ivan explains that Sturmhond wishes to speak with him, Aleksander nods, stroking his thumb back and forth over the nape of your neck, which pulls a shiver from you.

Turning back to you, Aleksander uses his other hand to hook under your chin, guiding your lips to his for an affectionate parting kiss.

His back is to Ivan and Zoya, meaning the soft smile on his face as he withdraws from your space is solely for you.

Aleksander keeps his eyes on yours until he physically can’t, turning away to join Ivan with the intention of meeting with Sturmhond.

He hears Zoya approach you, and the sound of excited murmurings between you both. Aleksander hears the shocked laughter fall from your lips as you smile widely, setting his heart aflutter as he moves down the steps towards the main deck, trying his hardest not to grin triumphantly.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Aleksander is in awe of the way you weave the world around you. He knows you believe your plans only work out because you know snippets of the future and things that no one else does about this world. He disagrees.

His own plans are a practiced art, a skill he has mastered over centuries of trial and error, taught by loss and experience. The skills he has learnt over these many years of existence come naturally to you, with such a wisdom, that Aleksander sometimes forgets that you aren’t the same age as him.

It's in your moments of doubt that Aleksander realises his age gives him something he can offer you. Reassurance. When Nikolai makes an offer of marriage to you, Aleksander doesn’t feel jealous. He knows your heart is his.

Despite this, you seem distressed when you tell Aleksander about it, and he discerns that you don’t want to love him in the dark. You don’t want him as your secret lover, robbing the chance to love one another freely from you both for the sake of your plans. But you’re as ambitious as Aleksander is, he knows you don’t want to discard this opportunity.

As you sit on the edge of Aleksander’s bed, he crouches in front of you, his arms settled on either side of you. He provides you with the encouragement needed to agree to Nikolai’s proposal, taking your face gently between his hands.

Aleksander presses his lips delicately against your forehead before he tilts his head down. His nose skims over the creased skin of your forehead, nuzzling away the small frown of concern there. He traces the tip of his nose down along the length of yours before he kisses you softly.

A small sound of pleasure hums in your throat and Aleksander smiles, leaning closer to press a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose which encourages a smile to linger on your lips.

“You wont have to marry anyone you don’t want to.”

His words are a promise, not only vowing to protect you from an unhappy marriage, but also whispering another assurance. I will be the only one to marry you, if you’ll have me.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

Aleksander is awake when you first begin to turn over in your sleep. He doesn’t think much of it at first. You haven’t had a nightmare since your illness on board Sturmhond’s whaler. But the sound of a small whimper attracts his attention, and he props himself up against the headboard to watch over you.

A deep frown creases at your brows as your breathing picks up, distressed murmurs falling from your lips as you shake your head frantically.

Then you say something that has his stomach twisting.

“Aleksander no. Please, no.”

Gasping, you wake suddenly with a choked cry. The covers tangle around your limbs as your mind begins to process that you’re no longer wrestling with your nightmare.

Aleksander draws you carefully towards his chest, trying to settle your breathing without overwhelming you. Soft assurances fall easily from his lips in an attempt to calm you down. He takes your shaking hand in his own, guiding it to lie flat against his chest, allowing you to feel the steady motion of rising and falling with each even breath.

Once you begin to follow his lead, breathing becoming less frantic, he presses a kiss to your temple. I’m here for you.

He runs his fingers delicately over the bare skin of your shoulder, tracing invisible patterns to keep you grounded by the sensation.

Now that the majority of the panic has left you, exhaustion begins to creep into your body as you slump down against his chest heavily. Aleksander doesn’t mind being engulfed by you; it reassures him that you’re still with him.

“Do you think my nightmares have some sort of meaning?”

Your voice is a quiet murmur, half muffled by his shoulder, but he hears you in the silence of the night.

“Have they ever come true?”

“Not yet.”

“But you’re afraid this one will?”

He feels you nod.

The motion of his fingers over your skin halts as he breathes in slowly. Then he says,

“You said my name.”

He feels you stiffen slightly.

“Did I?”

“You were begging me not to do something.”

As always, you understand what he means. Lifting your head up from his chest, your eyes meet his as you cup his face with your hand. Aleksander wants to close his eyes and lean into your touch, but he needs to hear your response.

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

There’s pause or hesitation in your voice. Aleksander knows when you’re lying or using clever word choices to work your way around a question. You’re telling the truth. You aren’t afraid of him.

Then there is only one other thing your nightmare could have been about, and his heart aches at the thought of you being so afraid of losing him.

Leaning closer, you rest your forehead against his, breathing steadily. He can see the remaining tension begin to loosen from your body. Then you kiss him. Soft and sweet. A simple sign of appreciation for Aleksander and a reassurance for you.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

With each day that passes, you entwine your way deeper into Aleksander’s life, until he can no longer think of the day when you will be parted.

The king dies.

Throughout the mourning period, you and Aleksander make your plans for removing the Fold and repairing Ravka. Events that Aleksander has waited centuries for.

The two of you journey to the far north in search of Aleksander’s sister. Whenever he looks for her, Ulla is never far from the islands she created.

He doesn’t expect you and Ulla to interact much. His sister is distrusting and uncaring of mortals, and you were an otkazat’sya. An extraordinary one, in his opinion, but mortals were all the same to Ulla. Or at least he thought so.

But when you reappear from her cavern of treasures with the heart of Sankt Feliks in your hands, Aleksander realises he has misjudged his sister.

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

With the Fold finally gone, Aleksander feels as though a weight has been lifted. Perhaps one day, many centuries in the future, the Black Heretic will be a mere footnote in Ravka’s history. Even with the removal of Aleksander’s main source of guilt, he cannot fully enjoy the celebrations.

There is too much to think about.

Countless new Grisha – sun summoners – had been created by the destruction of the Fold. Aleksander needed to organise a census to keep track of them all.

As current leader of both the First and Second Army, he was responsible not only for the continued campaigns on the frontlines, but the organisation of resource lines crossing the Unsea.

Despite all this, at the back of mind thoughts of you linger. He has barely seen you over the past few days, and he cannot help but think he is responsible for your absence.

As you were journeying into the Fold, Aleksander had mentioned that you might receive some of Alina’s power. At the time, it had made sense. You were otkazat’sya, just like every other person who was now a sun summoner.

But that hadn’t happened.

Aleksander could see that it upset you.

His thoughts linger on you now for the third time within the last few minutes. Sighing, he runs a hand over his face, discarding his pencil and pushing away the papers in front of him. His chair scrapes lightly over the floor as he pushes it back, deciding to search for you.

He hadn’t realised how late is was already.

Moonlight illuminates his path as he walks towards the doorway which leads to his bedroom. You’re not there. He crosses over towards the hallway, opening up the door opposite and stepping into your own room. The room you barely ever use.

The bed looks untouched. There are a few papers on your desk, but no candles burning.

Aleksander has one other theory for your whereabouts, and it is only once he has checked there will he allow himself to worry.

As he makes his way through the darkened corridors of the Grand Palace, the worry weighs on his chest. It’s only once he hears your laugh in the distance, that the worry loosens.

He rounds a corner, almost crashing into a rather intoxicated King Nikolai whose hand is held by your own as you wobble beside him.

Aleksander looks between the two of you, remarking drily,

“Good evening, Your Majesty.”

Nikolai turns to you with a bright smile.

“Found him.”

Warmth settles in Aleksander’s chest at the thought of you looking for him. He’s never seen you drunk. Tipsy perhaps, when he had offered you one of his favourite wines during a quiet evening together. But not like this.

Despite how unsteady you appear to be on your feet, you have enough thought to make Nikolai promise to be careful on the walk back to his rooms. Then you’re grasping hold of Aleksander and leaning against his chest.

Amusement has a soft smile lingering on Aleksander’s face as you mumble against the front of his kefta. You tell him that you can’t marry Nikolai, because you’re not in love with him. Because you’re in love with Aleksander. You also mention how pretty he is, which makes him chuckle.

Aleksander is sitting at his desk the next morning when you wake in his bed. A soft laugh falls from his lips when he sees the small scowl on your face as your eyes wince at the bright sunrise.

Casting a hand out, he calls forth the shadows to dim the light in an attempt at easing the throbbing that is no doubt a prominent feature in your temples. Once he’s finished, his fingers linger in the air before he gestures towards you, wanting you closer.

He wraps one of his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his side, and you rest your chin on the top of his head, sending a tingle down his spine.

When you apologise for disappearing he assures you it isn’t necessary. He continues to sign a number of reports, something in particular weighing at the back of his mind.

“I’m sorry too.” He sets his pen down, watching you frown which prompts him into continuing. “For being so occupied lately. I feel I’ve neglected you.”

You understand how important his position is. You don’t blame him for being busy, or for lifting your hopes about becoming Grisha.

Aleksander is quiet as you speak, explaining to him how over the last few months you haven’t accepted that you deserve him, too caught up by the fact that he will outlive you. You don’t want to love him for all your life; you want to love him for all of his life.

“But I’ve realised that by thinking like that, it means that I haven’t been appreciating that I have you right now.”

“You have me forever.” He cups your face in his hand, ensuring that you meet his gaze as he speaks, “There has never been any other like you, and there never will be. Not for me.”

Those words appear to have reached you, as he can see the emotion welling in your eyes as your lower lip wobbles slightly. A small tear falls down your cheek which he brushes away tenderly with his thumb, his expression softening at the sight of your tears.

“I love you, Aleksander.”

He kisses you softly.

“And I love you, my dearest.”

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

It’s finally over.

The dark sand of the Unsea that had stained the centre of Ravka for centuries was now gone, removed by sealing the tear at the making at the heart of the world – and it was all down to you.

Aleksander hadn’t prayed to the saints in years but seeing you in such pain as the tear had sealed closed, ripping you away permanently from your own universe, he weakened his resolve. As he held you close, he had prayed for you to survive.

Maybe the saints answered him, maybe you had done it all on your own, he wouldn’t be surprised. But you had survived an unfathomable experience, and here you were hugging Zoya as the others stare in awe at the revived Tula Valley. A sight Aleksander hasn’t seen in centuries, and something no one else in living memory has ever seen.

Fedoyr checks your injuries and begins to heal whatever damage was done by the making. Aleksander sits beside you on the boulder, hand cradling the back of your head as you grip onto his kefta.

From experience, he knows that healing isn’t a comfortable sensation and from the motion of Fedoyr’s hands the vast majority of your body requires some sort of healing.

A sigh of relief heaves at your body once the heartrender has finished his work. He bows when you thank him, and Aleksander smiles. Even the Grisha will believe you a saint after this. In Aleksander’s eyes you’ve always been akin to a saint. All knowing protector that offers him love and forgiveness for all that he is, and all that he could be.

His voice is soft as he asks,

“Are you alright now?”

A smile spreads over your features.

“Ravka is on the brink of rebirth. I have an incredible power, and I’m going to live forever.” The smile on your face softens as you add quietly, “Not to mention I have you.”

Aleksander smiles widely, and you press a gentle kiss to his lips before reassuring him,

“I’ve never been better.”

He takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply, putting every ounce of love he has in him into the movement of his lips against yours. Even when he pulls away slightly, the two of you are enclosed in your own private little bubble.

Zoya’s voice is what shatters your moment.

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

Aleksander follows Zoya’s gaze, looking down at the boulder where you’re sitting. A carpet of luscious green has spread over the rocks surrounding you both, their small leaves accompanied by tiny white flowers that bloom under his very eyes.

A smile tugs at his lips, it appears your power is connected to your emotions, not unlike Aleksander’s. You must be quite powerful.

Your own smile is rather sheepish as you look down at the petals forming.

“I should probably learn how to control that.”

He brushes his knuckle gently over your cheek in reassurance.

“I will help you.”

“You’re Grisha now?”

Zoya smiles widely when you nod, and the word spreads quickly around your little traveling group. Soon, a small argument breaks out, as the different orders try to claim you as their own.

Sliding an arm your waist, Aleksander helps you to stand and the two of you begin to walk along the path leading back to your horses.

When Aleksander refers to the contention surrounding your Grisha order, you laugh softly.

“I wonder what kefta I will have.”

The idea of you considering any colour but his own almost offends Aleksander. He already has a few ideas for the design.

“It will be black of course.”

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

“Would you like to get married?”

There’s a sound of confusion at the back your throat, and you raise you head up from where it had been nestled over Aleksander’s folded arm.

The two of you are cuddled up on the sofa in the war room, and his words had clearly roused you from almost sleep as you stared at the fire crackling in the hearth.

“Married?” Aleksander hums in confirmation, nuzzling his nose against your cheek before he presses a kiss there which has you sighing softly as you settle comfortably underneath him. “When?”

“Whenever you’d like. We have time.”

“This weekend?”

A smile tugs at his lips at your enthusiasm as he traces a hand down your side.

“Of course, dearest.”

Aleksander kisses along your neck, his teeth scraping your earlobe lightly, and he feels you shiver.

“Where?”

“Anywhere.” His following suggestions are breathed out between kisses layered over your skin. “We could head to Os Kervo, somewhere by the sea. Or the Tula Valley, out in the fields. Maybe a small village somewhere?”

Breathless, your eyes flutter closed as you thread a hand through his hair.

“You pick, Sasha. As long as I’m with you I’ll be happy.”

His heart soars at your words. Aleksander isn’t certain whether it’s because you’re comfortable and sleepy or because of his carefully timed distractions, but your perfect wedding is slowly coming together with very little thought.

Aleksander continues his kisses, over your cheeks, nose, and forehead, his stubble scraping lightly over your skin.

“There’s a small village near the southern border, they have the most beautiful blossom trees. I think you’ll love it.”

You nod in agreement.

“No guests, no priest. Just the two of us.”

Aleksander mimics your nod.

“Just us, exchanging vows and rings together.”

Leaning down, Aleksander kisses your lips tenderly. The hand in his hair tightens its grip, and you urge him closer. He parts his lips, allowing you take him as your own.

He’s breathless when he pulls away for air, whispering out the words against your lips.

“I love you.”

His stomach flips at the sight of your smile, so full of love, illuminated by the warm firelight. When you take his chin between your fingers he shivers, and your smile widens as you rub the pad of your thumb affectionately over his stubble.

“I love you too.”

Aleksander loses himself in your kiss as you grasp languidly at one another. He can’t wait to be your husband.

He can hardly believe that it was in this very room that he first laid his eyes on you. Every day since that moment he has thought of you, and he knows he will continue to do so for the rest of his eternal existence.

Brushing his nose gently against yours, he chuckles quietly as he observes your eyelids drooping heavily.

“Falling asleep on me, my love?”

You pout at his teasing remark.

“It’s your fault.” At that, he laughs. “You’ve worn me out.”

“My apologies.”

Eyes closed, you swipe blindly at his shoulder and his laugh brightens as you miss, which appears to shatter your façade of disgruntlement.

He kisses you again, pulling you close against his chest to encourage you into his arms as he sits up.

It’s a short walk from the war room into the bedroom you share together. Aleksander feels you card a hand through his hair as he carries you, and when you squeeze the nape of his neck affectionately he presses a kiss against your temple.

Once the two of you reach Aleksander’s side of the bed, you extend a hand out and pull back the covers.

He settles you down on the sheets and you take the opportunity to get comfortable, turning on your side with a pillow tucked against your face.

Then Aleksander slips under the covers beside you, tucking the two of you in.

With a natural ease, his arm drapes over your waist, his hand settling into the crook of your leg as you curl it up in front of you. His thumb traces a slow circle over the top of your bare knee, and you hum in contentment.

Aleksander flicks his hand upwards momentarily, his fingers brushing against your skin as he summons the shadows to extinguish the candlelight in both the war room and your bedroom.

He hears you sigh softly as the darkness closes in.

“G’night Sasha.”

He drops one last kiss onto your shoulder, letting his lips linger there for a moment.

“Good night, my love.”

•─────⋅☾ ✤ ☽⋅─────•

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#in another life au #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling au #the darkling #the darkling x reader #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader #in another life chapters

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