#Nikolai (Summoner)

[siriuslyobsessedwithfiction]

Alina Starkov - the most inconsistent main character. A tragedy of not wanting to have an identity.

The main character in Shadow and Bone trilogy, a prime example of "she deserved better". A.k.a. soldier, Sun Summoner, Sun Saint. In reality, a false saint and a false hero, who has less personality, goals, spine and consistency than her three love interests. How did this happen? Short answer - bad writing. Long answer? Here we go.

Her character at the beginning - a blank slate.

Physically small and weak, sickly, fragile, with a sour face and sourer attitude. Grew up in an orphanage funded by a Duke, who they were taught to basically worship while looking down on religion and beliefs in saints. Children in the orphanage were beaten if they misbehaved or didn't do chores, but were given education and fine food, which means they were faring better than peasants and farmers. Alina had not many, but several options in her life. She could learn a trade that would not require physical labour, like sewing. Or, she could marry and hope her husband was gracious enough to buy a donkey instead of making her carry heavy sacks of salt on her back, as we see a random man do to his wife. But Alina had no hobbies, interests, aspirations or ambitions in her life. Except her childhood friend Mal. Mal gets a mandatory draft in the First Army, and of course Alina follows, and settles for being a mediocre cartographer. Mal thrives in the army, showing off muscles and hooking up with women, while Alina dutifully waits for him saints know why. She doesn't have other genuine friends, she doesn't like people, she doesn't like anything. This is not a bad start in a sense that there is much room for growth and improvement.

Refusing to belong

Alina discovers she's a long awaited sun summoner, who can vanquish the Fold and unite Ravka. She doesn't want to be special, but not for the reasons you might think. Instead of fearing the burden of such an important task or genuinely becoming paranoid of being assassinated (she gets over those in five minutes), she just...doesn't want the responsibility of actually being useful for something. She'd rather not have powers at all, and go back to being in a constantly sickly state. She'd rather be tailing Mal like a mouse. Which doesn't make any sense for following reasons:

Alina's insecurities in SaB:

Not being pretty and talented

2. Not being as pretty and talented as Grisha

3. Being an orphan, being unwanted.

Being a Grisha actually solves all those problems for her. She gets prettier and healthier once she stops repressing her powers, has a unique cool power, and a community that cares for her. Plus, the support from important figures in Ravka. In time, she could have a family.

Instead, she refuses to acknowledge she's one of them, doesn't train properly, preferring to cling to her prejudices and make digs at Grisha. She'd rather complain that they're prettier, confident and pampered than acknowledge they are serfs, nothing but glorified servants with no basic human rights. Instead of her superstitions and prejudices being shattered when she starts living with them and realizing what Grisha have to go through, becoming rightfully enraged that her people are being treated this way, she still doesn't feel any empathy. In fact, she still doesn't see the General as a HUMAN BEING WHO MIGHT HAVE FEELINGS, even though he makes time in his busy schedule of running an army to make sure she's comfortable, jokes along with her, listens to her fears and reassures her, etc. Why would he go through the trouble if he was heartless? He's the General of the Second Army, by the King's law, she's his soldier. She is obligated to obey him regardless.

The narrative supports her delusions.

I get missing her friend, I get struggling to adjust, but it's more than that. Alina is getting dragged along from a plot point to a plot point kicking and screaming, as if she has anything better to do. She doesn't have a life, why is she so against of getting one? Once she finally somewhat adjusts to her life in the Little Palace, it turns out Darkling has had malicious intents towards her powers all along! Aha, you were right to be prejudiced, Alina! Now abandon your people, your country, and run!

“He … he said that Darklings are born without souls. That only something truly evil could have created the Shadow Fold.”

Imagine telling a person who saved your life that he was a soulless abomination, even though you do not know him, and he is still kind to you and reveals as much about him as he can. There is no grooming and manipulation here, it's just called not being a bitch. Darkling tells Alina he's over 120 years old, Alina is an adult, and the damned kiss was consensual. Of course he didn't tell her everything. Even regular people don't reveal their life-long ambitions and deepest childhood trauma to their crush after several conversations. It took Alina months to stop being in denial about being a Grisha, still didn't like being one, you're telling me if Darkling set her down and explained the complex political situation and his plan to overthrow the corrupt monarchy and bring an end to the war, Alina wouldn't jump out of the window?

Alina running away, not confronting the problem, and straight up deciding Darkling was evil incarnate with no evidence snowballed into Darkling deciding she couldn't be trusted and taking more drastic measures. Liberation of his people was on the line and one pesky girl screwed up a carefully planned coup because she couldn't handle her feelings.

False badassery

Throughout the whole three books, every time Alina makes a decision, it's immediately followed by self-doubt, shame and scorn. But no actual objective criticism. We often see variations of "It was foolish, but I didn't care", "I knew it was reckless but I couldn't bring myself to care", but never her actually analyzing why, or deciding not to do something like that again. Her small victories are immediately followed by thoughts on how would others feel about it, even though the person in question isn't even there and couldn't give less of a shit: "Never is it to be said that Ana Kuya didn't teach us manners", "A cheap trick, but a good one. Nikolai would be proud". Ana Kuya was an abusive mother figure, Nikolai was using Alina's status to get the throne. Sure, it's good that Alina is capable of learning useful things from every kinds of people, but she doesn't think "That was smart of me. I learnt that. I'm proud of myself for an accomplishment". She thinks "Is it good? Would they like it? They like things like that, right?". She attaches herself to people that fit her view of "deserving" and helps them, even though it might not be for the best. Extreme lack of self-worth, combined with entitlement.

When Alina hears a rumour Darkling ordered his heartrenders to sew a traitor's mouth shut, she's horrified. Even though that's hardly the worst punishment for a traitor in an army. But when some pilgrims insult Genya, she orders to have their tongues cut out after they're given only one warning. When Alina commits violence at slightest provocation, it's baddass. But when Darkling commits a controlled necessary military act to stop enemies from overrunning the country, it's madness and is falsely labeled genocide. Look up the definition, genocide is what was happening to Grisha.

The Darkling never kidnapped children and put them in the war zone. He only lied to Alina that he did, a clever strategy with no bloodshed. Meanwhile, Alina let her cult fight for her, whose members were brainwashed children, some only twelve years old.

When Alina faces a dilemma or a tense military situation, her go-to strategy is suicide. That is not martyrdom, nor it is badass.

Darkling became a bad person out of good intentions and desperation, Alina is just a bad selfish person.

Desperate people are the ones capable of the worst acts. Darkling didn't go nearly as crazy as he could, and frankly had a right to on behalf of his people.

"Aleksander had marched south with the king’s soldiers, and when they’d faced the Shu in the field, he’d unleashed darkness upon their opponents, blinding them where they stood. Ravka’s forces had won the day. But when Yevgeni had offered Aleksander his reward, he had refused the king’s gold. “There are others like me, Grisha, living in hiding. Give me leave to offer them sanctuary here and I will build you an army the likes of which the world has never seen.”

It doesn't matter how much genocide, prejudice, abuse and dehumanization the Grisha suffered through for centuries all around the world, Alina never bothers to look at the big picture. Her help is only for those who she deems worthy of it.

She attaches herself to people who fit her narrow-minded view of "worthy". She immediately believes Baghra's rather flimsy expose of Darkling, even though the old woman has been nothing but unhelpful to her, only insulting her and beating her. But Alina associates her with her only mother figure, Ana Kuya, another old hag she had a toxic relationship with. And even though Baghra is an immensely powerful Grisha who refuses to help or even lift a finger, or just spit out vital information, Alina coddles her and provides protection. Instead of telling her to fess up the useful information and save her unhelpful comments, Alina looks up to her as a mentor.

When Genya tells her story, Alina feels bad for her, but not bad enough to see things her perspective. She only becomes protective of Genya once she gets mutilated, out of pity. If it was genuine compassion, she would've forgiven and understood her from the start.

Every Grisha has been hunted and shamed for merely existing, almost every Grisha has lost a loved one to war. But Alina pointedly ignores it, because she doesn't personally know and care for those people. Therefore, she doesn't feel empathetic. Because if she feels empathetic, she might start feeling guilty about how she runs away from her responsibilities at every given opportunity. Just look at this passage:

“You know what he plans to do, Ivan.” “He plans to bring us peace.” “At what price?” I asked desperately. “You know this is madness.” “Did you know I had two brothers?” Ivan asked abruptly. The familiar smirk was gone from his handsome face. “Of course not. They weren’t born Grisha. They were soldiers, and they both died fighting the King’s wars. So did my father. So did my uncle.” “I’m sorry.” “Yes, everyone is sorry. The King is sorry. The Queen is sorry. I’m sorry. But only the Darkling will do something about it.”

The Darkling never wanted power for selfish reasons. He didn't want to take over other countries or lift Grisha above regular people. He wanted his kind to have basic human rights. Centuries of diplomacy and servitude only gave him enough power to make a school for Grisha children and save adults from slavery and getting slaughtered by serving nobles. He wanted to use the Fold as a border, to stop enemies from invading whenever they pleased, so he would have the time to save Ravka from collapsing. What has Alina done? Started a civil war, destroyed the Second army and helped put a morally dubious man with no claim on the throne to continue an outdated absolute monarchy tradition.

Alina Starkov was meant to be the sun, but turned out to be a trick of the light.

Every time it felt like Alina was emerging from her cocoon as a beautiful butterfly, embracing her true self, she went back to the toxic situationship and the toxic mindset. The narrative also always struck her down. Every book begins and ends with her being sickly, fragile, missing an essential part of herself. It would be good if it was written differently and showed themes of being disabled or having a chronic illness accurately, but it's not. It started out well. Alina was removed from an abusive environment, found a purpose in life, started loving her newfound powers, outgrew the stupid crush who she was way too dependent on, but it all went downhill from there. And then some. This constant vicious cycle does not fit the theme of growth and improvement, and neither does the ending, where Alina loses her powers and goes back to the orphanage. Once again, she's frail and strange, servants (who she now employs) don't respect her, sneer and make fun of her, while her now husband Mal turns a blind eye. Everything is back to the way it was: Mal thrives, Alina is...there. The ending is supposed to be bittersweet, a couple who survived a war building a new life together, but I don't see the sweet part.

Trick of the light - definition: something appearing different from what actually is as a result of the quality of light.

Darkling wanted her to be a strong Grisha, his equal and balance. Grisha wanted her to be a capable leader, Bataar twins wanted a living saint they could worship, Nikolai wanted a wife interested in Ravka and politics. Alina tried to be all of that, but never really wanted to be any of those, so she half-assed it. Mal wanted the version of Alina who was small and insignificant, because anything more made him insecure, and he got his wish.

Illusion, mirage, spectre.

No matter how much the author tries to tell us that Alina's every problem is Darkling's fault, her thought process and actions paint a different picture. Alina was never mentally healthy and she never addressed or resolved her problems. Growing up in a controlled and abusive environment affected her more than anyone, including herself, wants to admit. I am not a licensed psychiatrist, so I will refrain from officially diagnosing Alina, even though she's a fictional character. I am NOT saying I know for certain that Alina has these, if any, mental problems, but she does have some alarming symptoms. It seems like depersonalization. While her symptoms don't fit into one particular mental disorder, I am reminded of psychiatric infantilism, but it is not a mental illness with symptoms. Psychiatric infantilism doesn't necessarily mean the person acts outwardly childishly. To explain very roughly and simply, it means the psych is not as developed as it should be (even if the person is very smart and clever). It shows in avoiding responsibility or not feeling it at all, problems with social connections, not seeing the big picture and taking it seriously, etc. When Harshaw tells the story of his brother getting brutally murdered by people who hate Grisha, even brash Zoya is appalled and expresses her condolences. While all Alina thinks about is that Harshaw might base his hope of having a better life on her now.

Alina also might have Dependent Personality Disorder, but it's hard to say, since we are never shown her being on her own long enough to see whether or not she can take actually care of herself. But her relationship with Mal, Darkling and Baghra (after she no longer objectively needs them) is weird, to say the least.

She never gains the sense of self or an identity, she refuses to become something, then delivers an inner monologue of accepting her fate and five minutes later goes back on her words. Her willingness to sacrifice her life is never out of thinking of the greater good and future, justice, or patriotism. She just doesn't want to live, especially without Mal, who has been doing nothing but shitting on her. Her titles are slapped on her, and she peels them off. Her personality never really changes. Everything she went through feels like a really bad exchange program she was in for a year, and from which she has learnt nothing.

P.S. I don't hate Alina's character, I just mourn her lost potential.

If you have made it to the end, I salute you, congratulations and thank you. 😊 🙏 ❤️

[fireworkwitch]

Day 9: Sun

.

Zoya: wow, I didn't expect Alina to have an altar here.

[unsafescapewolf]

Summer Kofi doodles part 4!

[inejs-knife]

fun fact: if you say impossible three times in front of a mirror, Nikolai Lantsov shows up and corrects you

[sonics-atelier]

Okay people I need to know everything about merzost and how it works.

It's important.

[lissa-edem]

It seems like I enjoy "Let's bring them together" thing. Also I like to think about Alina as the main Zoyalai's shipper, according to serial.

Alina, enthusiastically: we need to make Zoyalai become a couple.

David: Zoyalai?

Genya: he was in love with you, dear. and he proposed to you.

Alina: he was. but now he has heart-eyes every time, when Zoya is next to him. Nikolai is so bad in being unobvious.

Tolya: she's gonna tear his heart apart.

Alina: no, cause Zoya likes his heart. I'm not Kaz Brekker, but I've already made a plan.

[zoyalaisobachka]

Alina: Are you always like this? Nikolai: Like what? Handsome, amazing, charming, clever, perfe- Alina: Annoying!

[stromuprisahat]

Siege and Storm- Chapter 19 (Leigh Bardugo)

Shame- Vasily isn't stupid enough to let it slide.

Yes, I'm still fascinated by the possibility of THE Sun Summoner facing corporal punishment, or even a threat of execution.

If you're pretending you have a brash character in setting full of rules and hierarchy, there should be some consequences to their actions. Eventually.

[observer1090]

I'm only 5 episodes in but I can't wait to see him lose!!! crumble before my very eyes!!

[rainingriversofyou]

Seige And Storm - Artist: vinc_ry for wickedfairytaleco

[kriz-smthn]

MAN THE PEOPLE ARE GONNA BE FED THIS UPDATE Y'ALL

[bestfurryhusband]

[anon-s-s-k]

I don't know if it's been spoken about yet, but

In season 2 of Shadow and Bone, we find out that Sturmhond the Privateer was the one behind Dreesen, the wealthy merchant who hired the Crows to kidnap Alina the Sun Summoner and bring her to Ketterdam.

Where in Season 1, we saw the entire scene with Alexie and the heartrender Milana, and it kinda seemed like Dreesen wants the Sun Summoner for his own profit.

Turns out, Dreesen was just another pawn in the grand plan and the real mastermind behind it all was Sturmhond all along.

What a twist!

But Sturmhond the privateer is actually Prince Nikolai of Ravka under disguise.

So all this time, Prince Nikolai of Ravka was trying to get Alina Starkov the Sun Summoner, kidnapped from the Little Palace, which is under the protection of Ravkan Royalty and is the home of the second army of Ravka, the Grisha themselves. That too by a gang of the Barrel of Ketterdam.

I mean, look at them

Yeah, definitely not sketchy at all.

So why is it, that the Ravkan Prince wants their Sun Summoner, the one and only saving grace of his country, to be taken from the most secured place in all of the world, which is under the protection of his own family and is in his own country, and brought to the literal bottom of the hell that is Ketterdam, by a sketchy gang of the Barrel.

Really, it doesn't make much sense.

Most of the YouTube videos explaining SaB season 2 I saw said it was just lazy writing or a plot hole or just something the writers wrote to make the characters more interesting and so on and on and on.

Honestly, I too, had thought the same. However, that was until I re-watched the show for like the 20th time, and saw this scene very closely.

And this got me thinking.

What if? *Drum rolls please*

What if, Prince Nikolai had a hunch about what the Darling was planning to do with Alina and the fold?

Just hear me out here.

Prince Nikolai, as shown in Season 2, is not new to the family political scenarios in the Royal family of Ravka, as well as the political stances of Ravka and the other countries. He is aware of a lot of information that even his family may not be aware of. And with his Sturmhond persona, let's just say this man has quite a lot of sensitive and private information under his belt.

But other than valid information, Prince Nikolai is also incredibly intuitive in nature. We know that Nikolai doesn't trust even the King's Aparet, so it might not be a long shot to say that he doesn't trust General Kirigan either. So maybe, it is possible that Prince Nikolai had a doubt about General Kirigan's loyalty to the crown and to the country. He could've had a hunch that General Kirigan might turn on his own people and use Alina in a way that can cause severe damage to his country.

It's not like Nikolai hasn't seen this man his entire life and doesn't understand how much he's capable of with his shadow summoning powers.

But unlike his elder brother Vasily, Prince Nikolai understands politics. He understands and respects Grisha powers and the second army. He understands that he cannot go against General Kirigan as Prince Nikolai. He knows that the second army is loyal to General Kirigan, and if he goes after General Kirigan directly, it will only cause another war between the first army and the second army. And this will cause an immense amount of bloodshed within the country as history will repeat itself, and this time even the Royals won't be spared from it. He knows that with the neighboring countries being at war with Ravka, the fold being a major concern for the country, and the western parts of the country trying to get independence, a war between the first and the second army will cause the ultimate collapse of Ravka. And Nikolai being the ideal king, the self righteous man and the patriot he is, could not let that happen.

Which is why he decides to go for it by kidnapping the Sun Summoner and handling it all in a more politically balanced way. My guess is that Nikolai intended to keep General Kirigan at a distance from Alina, and get her to destroy the fold while standing beside her himself (which he eventually did, bless his soul!), so that if Kirigan ever tried to weaponize the fold (which he did!), he won't get the chance to get on with it.

Things, however, definitely don't go according to his plan and we know the rest that happens in the show.

Well in the end, things did work in his favour though, well except that damned Nichevoya.

(Also ignoring the whole first army slaughtering the second army and the bloodshed thing that went on in season 2, which I'm pretty sure could have been avoided if the Crows had brought Alina to Sturmhond in time as it was planned, but alas!)

So this is entirely my theory. I've no clue if it's already been stated or is there any other theories or if there's anything specified by the writers or actors. If there's any gap or any wrong information or a grammatical mistake there, please forgive me. I wrote this instead of sleeping.

[zoyaofthegardvn]

idk who made the decision to not release anything zoya related for the season 2 release date announcement, but i will find out, and trust, you will be dealt with.

[ricardian-werewolf]

2. If I didn't care, would I feel this way?

Summary: Alina settles in at the Great Palace, and comes to learn that sometimes the friends one makes come from the most unlikely of places. With her powers beginning to show at last, Genya and Nikolai reconnect and take Alina under their wings. Nikolai recollects on his childhood and begins to come to terms with being home.

Notes; none

Word count: 4.2k

Chapter below the cut.

The Great Palace, Os Alta.

Alina’s legs ached as she let Nikolai guide her to her new chambers. 

Up they went a series of dizzyingly tight stairs, through endless marble and gold-gilded hallways, until they reached a set of white double doors with gold handles carved in the shapes of stag-antlers.

“Your rooms. Genya Safin should be along in a moment or two.” Nikolai pushed the doors open and stepped into a wide receiving room of rich velvet settees, sofas, plush, cloud-like carpets and heavy drapes. All of the room was upholstered in the royal colour of emerald green, with gold edging. 

“Wait. This isn’t the little Palace.” Alina murmured, pulling off her boots, as mud and dirt soaked they were, she wasn’t about to make some poor servant clear up her messes. Nikolai had already changed into a pair of deep green slippers monogrammed with his symbol - a fox running under a crescent moon.

“No, it’s not.” Nikolai threw the drapes wide, and pushed up the sash. The windows, arranged in a bay formation, gave a visage of Os Alta sprawled out before them. “As a member of my household, you’ll be taking your residence in the Great Palace.”

“Why?” Alina examined the solid gold samovar and clicked her tongue at the lack of tea. The spout was in the shape of a stag-head. Padding across the room, she glared up at the massive landscape watercolour of the woods where Morozovas stag was said to roam with its herd.

“Tradition, according to my father at least.” Nikolai rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. “You’re not a prisoner. You’ll have a room in the Little Palace as well, once your training starts. The Fabrikators are working on it as we speak, though it’ll be a different kind of grandness to this. For now…” 

He paused, looking both bashful, and sheepish. Alina glanced over her shoulder at him, her brow raised in curiosity. 

“I don’t want you to think that I’m…” He paused again. “Using you. That you’ll just be some sort of trophy.” 

That was exactly what I was thinking. Alina thought, looking genuinely surprised and pleased at the opposite occurring. Nikolai went back to scratching the back of his neck, then looked up as a ginger-haired woman dressed in the white kefta of the palace servants stepped into the room.

“Ah, Genya!” Nikolai murmured, coming over to the woman. She hugged him tightly and kissed one another’s cheeks in rapid succession. “Nikolasha, I’d no idea you’d be home!” She smiled, and looked past him.

Alina couldn’t help herself. She scowled darkly at this woman, and Genya sighed. “Ah. It seems like your Sun Summoner is possessive.” raising a brow, Genya stepped over to Alina and began examining her.

“She’s half-Shu.”

“Genya.” Nikolai lit a cigarette. “It’s not kind to speak about Alina like she isn’t here.”

“Ah.” Genya blinked. “My apologies.” Her expression softened, and she bowed her head. 

“I’m Genya Safin, and the Queen has assigned me as your personal Tailor.”

“So you mend my clothes?” Alina blinked. Weren’t there servants to do that? What did she need this devilishly pretty ginger woman for, then?

“Not exactly. Let’s see.” Genya stepped over to a brown box with gold edging that looked to Alina's eyes like needles and spools of thread. Lifting the lid, Genya’s fingers dipped into the different little inner boxes, pulling out a string of black beads, a vial of gold dust, and a small bulb of some dried flower.

Nikolai examined some part of her room as Genya sat Alina down at her dressing table and handed her a small hand mirror made of gold embellished with sapphires. The sheer opulence of everything was almost overwhelming. 

“I’m seriously going to be part of Prince Nikolai’s household?” Alina breathed as Genya ran her fingers over her hair. The limp curls sprang into neat coils and her hair became an inky black, weeks of grease and oils simply vanishing in an instant. Alina almost dropped the mirror.

“Saints!”

“She’s pretty damn awesome, no?” Nikolai breathed from where he stood by the fireplace, examining the wall of her room that led to her bathing chamber for some reason. Shadows curled about his shoulders like a stole, and he seemed almost… Ill at ease.

“Yes.” Alina ducked her head. “Though I thought it rude to swear.”

“He’s the second son of the Tsar. He can do what he pleases.” Genya sniffed, gently pinching the bulb’s tip in her fingers. Those fingers brought out Alina’s blush and lightened her skin, assisting in the healing process her light explosion had kickstarted.

“The testers found me when I was 5, and I was brought to the Little Palace then. As a gift for our wonderful Tsarina Tatiana. Technically, I’m not supposed to be Tailoring you, but..” Genya’s gaze turned to Nikolai, who gave her a crooked grin. “Prince Nikolai owes me a few favours. Plus, I like his section of the palace far better than anywhere else.”

“His section-” Alina glanced over at Nikolai.

“The entire western wing of the palace is mine. Though it’s mostly shut up for the year. I only like to be back when everyone else is on a hunt. It seems, however…” Nikolai crossed over to a dark oak side table and lifted a silver serving dish to reveal a plate of crisp and fluffy blini. Stabbing a few with a fork, he picked up a plate and crossed to Alina.

“I suspect you last had a meal… last night?”

“Has it only been a day?” Alina scoffed, taking the fork and plated stack of blini from Nikolai. She set to shoving the delicious cakes into her mouth as Genya continued tailoring her and Nikolai went about embroidering the compass rose onto a discarded First Army uniform.

“You embroider?” She asked, sipping a glass of sugared tea. He nodded without looking at her, reaching over in his seat to turn down the gramophone playing Beethoven with a swift wrist-flick. 

“Helps calm my mind. That, or I love to tinker.” He unfurled a whole roll of gold thread and set back to embroidering in her ranking icon as a private on the lower part of the sleeve. The pluck of the needle, along with the crackling and pop of the spring hickory logs made the whole space feel largely intimate. Safe.

Soon enough, however, the uniform was being tugged over Alina’s head by Genya, and with Nikolai’s help, Alina was veiled, her shoes slipped on and guided through the Great Palace to the throne room. As they walked, Alina gripped Nikolai’s arm in her right hand and Genya’s hand in her left.

“You’re doing wonderfully. Just walk straight, and don’t lift the veil. My father likes the idea of a fragile First Army girl who’s not seen combat.” Nikolai murmured in her ear. Alina nodded.

“How’s Dominik?” Genya asked, cocking her head. Nikolai looked over Alina’s head, and mouthed: Banned from the Great Palace still. But he’s at the Little Palace. Probably hiding out with David.

Genya nodded silently, and sighed. The Grisha were going to shun her the moment Alina showed off her powers. Nikolai hadn’t dressed in his deep green kefta. The Darkling would tear him a new one for that. If he had his way, Nikolai would probably come dressed in his work clothes. The Volkvolny was docked in Os Kervo, after all. Plus, his sailing boats were already in the water after the Spring thaw broke the 4-inch thick ice-sheet on the Great Lake blocking off the Little and Great Palaces from one another.

“Are you planning to go sailing once this is over?” Genya queried.

“You sail?” Alina breathed, almost lifting her veil. Nikolai coughed, gently adjusted the gold spanish lace and Shu silk blend, and nodded. “Yes. I do. It’s a pastime.” He explained quickly as they descended the long, wide and expansive marble stairs to the Palace’s entrance hall. 

A whole motley of servants of the palace, armed guards of the Darkling and Tsar, and rogue Grisha flanked the double-golden doors leading into the throne Room with its double golden domes, and Nikolai paused.

“Moi Soverenyi.” He bowed to the Darkling, who sneered at Nikolai in his court dress, and took Alina’s hand.

“You tailored her?” Kirigan asked Genya, who nodded. Tugging on the collar of her white kefta, Genya disappeared after Nikolai through a set of double doors in the same white as Alina’s room. 

“She’ll be fine.” Nikolai lit another cigarette and passed it to Genya, who took two puffs and coughed. “Saints. How can you take these?”

“It’s for my nerves.” Nikolai dropped the cigarette to the carpet and swiftly ground it under his heel. He hated being amongst his parents as much as Genya did, and he wasn’t blind to the sins of his father against her. “Dominik’s been working on another round of poisons for you. These should be more potent.” He murmured, reaching for her hand. “I’ll try and fix something, this time, I promise.”

Those words had been the last words Nikolai had said to Genya at their first meeting when she was 5 and he 6. Now, they were 20 and 19, and the sins had only doubled amongst them both. Genya deserved better, and Ravka deserved a better Tsar than Nikolai’s father. His mother was just as bad, and he hated her just as much. Anyone with two brain cells would realise that Nikolai and Aleksander III looked nothing alike. Where Nikolai’s jaw was thin and arrow-sharp, his nose straight and eyes a bright hazel, Aleksander’s chin was ruddy, fattened with years of poor diet and health. His eyes were a watery blue, his hair the colour of winter-wheat.

Nikolai and Genya’s secretive location in a lesser servant’s hallway in the double-layered walls of the throne room wouldn’t stay secret for long. With a glance behind them, Nikolai grabbed Genya’s hand and the two ghost-children-turned-adults slipped into the marble and gold throne room. 

Taking their places on the dias, Nikolai stood behind his mother, who gave him a glance of pure, child-like adoration. Genya took her place at her other side, and tried to stay as far as she could from the Tsar as possible. On the Tsar’s other side, Vasily leaned forward on his elbows against his father’s throne’s back. He glared through a monocle at the sight of Alina coming up to the dias. Her booted feet made not even a whisper of noise in the baby-blue carpeting that stretched from the golden double doors to the marble dias, and the Darkling beside her radiated possessive delight. Despite the beard and dark eyes, Nikolai remembered with a shudder just how old the man was, and settled his face into an expression of nonchalance. The instances of these court demonstrations were few and far between, but he for one wanted to see Alina’s powers on display.

“Lift the veil, child.” The Tsar rumbled, and Nikolai smirked to himself. Let his parents express their horror over another Sobachka gracing their halls. Between Genya, Dominik, and now Alina, Nikolai had a habit of collecting the mutts that no one else cared for. He put his palm under his chin and winked at his father as Aleksander’s gaze turned to him full of angry ire.

“Is this her?” Tatiana leaned forward, fingering the diamond choker adorning her wrinkled throat. Time had not been kind to either of his parents, something Nikolai delighted in. For while he maintained a youthful glow for much longer than anyone expected, his parents had fallen deep into the sins of their own makings, and it suited them. He winked at Alina, who blushed and dipped her head.

“Oh, I don’t know, tell her Good morning in Shu?” Tatiana murmured weakly.

“She speaks Ravkan, Madraya.” Nikolai murmured in reply, softly enough to not cause Alina any public embarrassment. Her eyes were wide enough already. Cocking his head to Genya, he signed: 

She looks ready to bolt. Can you arrange for her to take dinner in her room and keep the Grisha off her back till mid-week?

Genya nodded, signing back swiftly: Of course. Will you be dining with her?

No such chance. The bear and the lapdog will want me to dine with them. Perhaps I can figure out why I’ve been recalled back-

Nikolai stopped signing as the Darkling spread his hands and shadows filled the room. He’d been saying something about liberation, or words to that effect, and Nikolai hadn’t been paying attention. His mind was too distracted trying to figure out the schematics of Alina’s kefta. Emerald green with gold embroidery and sunburst buttons. Matching boots. Fox-fur edging. Red fur.

In the darkness, Nikolai watched the Darkling’s hand reach Alina’s wrist. A part of him felt sick, as he remembered the feeling of the Darkling’s hand on his own wrist in that cold, freezing winter of his 14th half-year name-day celebration. It’d been so dark, so… snowy, when the Darkling had taken his born gifts and warped them beyond belief. The darkness had just been one facet.

He hoped that Alina would thrive under his protection. She would not be like him. Broken, abused and hidden behind a mask of lies. Nikolai straightened as light filled the room, blasting back the darkness. He could see the wonder on his parents’s faces, on Alina’s, and he sighed. The warmth of her light felt cleansing and holy, quite unlike his darkness.

When the light settled and the lamps flared anew, claps and cheers rang out. Nikolai stepped around his mother’s throne at his father’s behest and settled his feet easily on the second step down the dias. 

“My son, Grand Duke Nikolai, has become the Sun Summoner’s liege-lord, protector, and confidante. She will become part of his household, as tradition demands, and take rooms in both the Little and Great Palaces. As his vassal, Miss…” Aleksander paused.

“Starkov. Assistant Junior cartographer, formerly.” Nikolai provided, catching his father’s dirty glare at Alina. He sniffed, settled his weight more evenly in his feet and let his father continue.

“Will be provided with an annual annum of 400 gold vlacki per seasonal period, and may wish to have that money sent as compensation to any family member she desires. Along with that, she will train with General Kirigan and his…” Aleksander paused again to cough into a provided handkerchief. Blood spotted the edge. Nikolai grinned to himself. It seemed Genya’s poison was working.

“Grisha. Now, please, disperse. I trust the Sun summoner has many great things to accomplish, and I do not wish to delay her.” Aleksander looked up at Vasily, whose monocle hung from its chest pin. His face was still contorted in dumb shock.

Nikolai stepped down the dias, hands in his pockets and whistling a jaunty tune as the Grisha filed out according to their order, and the Darkling went with them, sending a dark scowl at Nikolai as he departed. However, it was the Apparat’s rat-like nostril-twitch that sent Nikolai’s pulse spiking.

“All well, Moi Tsarevich?” Alina murmured, looping her hand through his arm. Nikolai blinked, smiled. “Oh. Yes.” He grinned, and waved a swift goodbye to his parents. Genya drifted easily after them, a secretive grin shared between the three of them. 

***

That evening, as a rainstorm of epic proportions roared outside, Alina lay splayed out on her plush velvet sofa. By her head, her phonograph played a rotating assortment of different classical pieces, though the 1812 Overture was currently blasting at full volume. Nikolai was humming along, his feet tucked under him as he sat with a tea-tray on his lap and was dabbing at a canvas print with a watercolour brush. By his feet, maps of the True sea lay spread across the chaise longue’s surface.

“Word is, from the Little Palace, that a certain Sun Summoner shunning her first dinner for the comfort of her chambers is something rather unladylike.” Genya announced as she kicked the door shut with the heel of her foot. Balanced on a silver serving tray were three bowls of borscht, with smaller china bowls of sour cream. Piled high on a plate were slices of rye bread.

“I thought the Grisha ate like peasants. And weren’t you supposed to be at dinner?” Alina asked Nikolai, who snorted.

“It’s better to be full when dining with my parents. Dinner lasts for so long that by the time the courses show, it’s gone the midnight bell. All they do is argue, or round-about discuss Vasily’s achievements and my failures. Plus, I always have to curry favour with them, deflect questions from Vasily on which girl I tumbled this time-” He looked up from his painting of a golden sunne in splendour and sighed. “- I don’t tumble girls often, and besides, it’s almost expected when you’re of my social standing. My celibacy is something my mother finds more scandalous than the multiple bastards Vasily sires in a given harvest season.” 

“Plus, the Grisha do eat like peasants. Kirigan says its to keep us humble. Whatever that means.” Genya placed the platter down on the low-set tea-table in the centre of Alina’s private sitting room. She carefully laid out soup, spoons, the sour cream, rye bread, and glasses of tea and kvas. Nikolai however took a glass of brandy, something Alina didn’t know he imbibed in.

“Be warned. Most Grisha breakfasts are of poached fish and rye bread.” 

Alina sniffed in distaste. “Anything you can do to alleviate that?” She looked at Nikolai, who nodded and went back to painting. “Technically since I’m your liege-lord, you’re under my command, not the Darkling. The whole matter of all this will no doubt drive him insane, but not even he can go against a crown-ordained law. Unless he wants to find the First Army’s bayonets in his throat whenever he sleeps.”

“As for food.” He dipped his brush in water and set the whole platter aside. “I control what you eat, how much, and so on. Which, since I’m not the kind of man to be that controlling, you’re free to have the whole of the Great Palace’s kitchen to yourself.”

“Saints.” Alina looked at him in amazement. “Doesn’t this whole power dynamic strike you as strange? One moment we’re meeting in a crowded mess tent, and the next you suddenly are in command of my every movement.”

“I’m planning to be as lax as possible. Plus, you’re what? 18?”

Alina nodded. 

“Right. And I’m 20. Not at all strange. Anyways, you’re an adult. You can do whatever you bloody well wish, as far as I’m concerned.” Nikolai sipped at his soup, then as the need for food consumed him, he turned to inhaling the portion.

“Nikolai has a small issue of forgetting when he needs to eat.” Genya explained as she lightly buttered her slice of rye bread and added a portion of goose liver pate to it. “He’s a poor dining companion in the eyes of his parents, but we’ve eaten together since we were children, and once Dominik joined us, the idea of Nikolai sitting down for dinner was finally not a foreign concept.” 

“I was a very active child.” Nikolai replied swiftly, shooting Genya a glance. She shrugged, chewed her slice of bread. Alina dipped her spoon in the borscht, noting the lack of beetroot. “Is the royal version of this made without beets?”

“Oh, it is. But the cook didn’t want this portion looking too red. Otherwise Prince Vasily gets testy.”

“He doesn’t like blood or things that look like it. Which is strange, since he never saw a day of active combat.” Nikolai grumbled as he wiped at his chin with his napkin and set to scooping up the drippings with a piece of bread. “I’ve killed and I’m fine with it.” His grumblings turned softer as he chewed on the bread and slugged back his glass of brandy.

“I miss my old cook.” He pressed his chin against his palm. “Wonderful man. Doused things in too much butter.”

“You have a fondness for butter. And salt.” Genya rolled her eyes. “I had to lock the salt away after a while. He would easily put it on everything.”

“Within moderation!” Nikolai protested. He sat back, kicked his feet up on the tea table, and rubbed a hand over his face. “Please tell me I don’t have to go to this dinner with my parents, Gen…” He groaned.

“You do, Nikolasha.” She sighed, patting his hand. “I’ll walk you over, since your mother will no doubt want me to tailor you. But then-” She turned her gaze back to Alina. “I’ll be right back to help you get ready for bed. Or we can stay up, pop popcorn over the fireplace and gossip. These kinds of rainy evenings are the best for books and quiet conversation, in my opinion.” Genya squeezed Alina’s hand.

She smiled. “I’ve never really had any friends besides Mal, and what with Zoya’s cruel remark… I have a feeling it’ll be like how it was back there.” She murmured, rubbing at her nose with her finger.

“Nonsense. You have us! And Dominik, once I figure out how to sneak him in.” Nikolai grinned.

“Are you two…” Alina looked between Nikolai and Genya. “Together?”

A beat of silence passed, and then Genya burst out laughing. Nikolai snorted, and suppressed his laughter behind his napkin, his feet kicking out as he snickered into the linen.

“No.” He squeaked. “We’ve been friends since we were children. But no, Genya had her head turned by a certain fabrikator with glasses.”

“His name is David.” Genya hit Nikolai with her dinner napkin, and wiped her streaming eyes with a tissue stuck up her sleeve. “And yes, Nikolai is correct. We grew up together in the Great Palace.” She explained. “But I can see why you’d assume that.” As Genya patted Alina’s hand, the sun summoner’s face turned red.

“Bloody hell.” She groaned. “My apologies.” 

“None needed. We get it. I mean, I half wanted to ask if that boy… Mal, had tumbled you. The look on his face when he saw you in the Darkling’s carriage made me think so.”

“No!” Alina breathed. “No, we’ve been friends since our orphanage days. Like…” She looked between Genya and Nikolai. “You both, it seems.”

“Ah.” Genya nodded at Nikolai. “Told you so.”

“Oh, of course you’d know.” Nikolai snipped, turning to his watercolours. He grumbled as he squinted at the ormolu clock on the mantelpiece. “Saints, is it nine bells already? I should get going.”

“When’re you supposed to be there?” Alina asked as she sipped her glass of kvas.

“By ten bells, but I want to be early so I get off on the right foot. It’s been… how long?” Nikolai asked Genya as she straightened his mussed tie, combed his hair and spritzed him with eau de cologne. Along with that, she tailored his hair to give it a dimmer streak, and wiped away a scar he’d gotten from fighting Drüskelle. 

“Anything else?” Genya asked as she turned back to her box. 

Nikolai bit his lip. 

“Nah. I’ll be fine. If I come back busted up, you’ll know.” He cut a glance to the door, and straightened his evening kefta’s lapels. The cummerbund at his waist was bottle-green, his heraldic colour. The fox fur of his kefta shimmered in the gas-lamps' light that were scattered throughout the room. 

Genya sighed, but nodded. Gathering up the dishes, she carried the tray to the door and Nikolai pulled the bell-cord for her. A serving maid materialised in the doorway as if by magic, and took the tray, as well as Genya’s box of tools. 

“Alright.” Nikolai spun on his heel and came back to Alina. He kissed the knuckles of her offered hand, which made the girl blush, and cast his gaze to Genya. “Take care of her, will you?”

“Obviously.” Genya smirked, smacking the prince’s behind. “Off you get, you scourge. If I wasn’t here, I’m sure you’d ravish her.” She hissed in Nikolai’s ear.

He squawked in indignation, threw Alina a kiss over his shoulder. Genya pulled the double doors shut, and the two of them raced through the halls, chasing and teasing one another. Soon enough, they reached the royal couple’s chamber doors, and stopped dead. 

Genya pulled on his bow-tie, while Nikolai helped Genya pin her hair up and straighten her cuffs. They did this all without a word between them, and grinned at one another.

“Ready?” Nikolai murmured, reaching for Genya’s hand.

“Are we ever?” She replied, squeezing his hand.

“No.” He added, settling his shoulders. He always felt so young coming back here. Partly why he avoided it. He pushed the double doors open, and let Genya step first into the Lion’s maw. Following her, Nikolai paused in the doorway.

He wanted Alina here with them. But not yet. 

Ravka needed her. Nikolai needed her. So did Genya. But Alina needed to find herself first. 

Nikolai closed his eyes, and stepped from the world he controlled to the world that was out of his control. He would go quietly, not screaming or kicking. 

For he controlled what he could, and the rest was up to the Saints.

End of chapter 2. 

[thestrokeseveryday]

Some of many photos from the 1/16/2001 shoot by Colin Lane. The headshots from this shoot are included on the vinyl and CD packaging for Is This It.