Chapter Text
Aleksander always thought dying would be a catastrophe. He had not realized it would be peaceful. He could not recall the last time he felt at peace, the blue sky above his head. Alina leaning over him. Her sweet perfect face.
Alina.
Sankta Alina.
His little saint.
"Once more," He gasps, "Speak my name once more."
Her eyes are full of starlight tears, "Aleksander."
~~~
He wakes with a pounding headache. Which is to say not at all how he expects, both because for one he is awake at all and because he thought there would be far more pain in whatever punishment he'd find in the after.
Instead, he is in a tent. A quick glance tells him he is in Kribirsk, he can tell from the furs on the floor. His personal tent.
But why would his mind take him here in the after? He sits up in the chair he's reclining in, and looks around further. He listens, hears the sounds of troops and wagons. The general hum of soldiers settling into their placement.
It's achingly familiar, a sound he has known for so long that it's like a lullaby. He relaxes back into the chair and closes his eyes. The headache fades. He lets out a hum of pleasure at the lack of pressure behind his eyes.
Limbo it is then, a place in between. Perhaps he will stay here and wait for Alina. It will take years, centuries, or more. He's waited that long for her before.
"Moi Soverenyi?" Ivan's voice cuts through the tent and when Aleksander opens his eyes he sees the man standing there before him. A shame for him to have died so young, like so many Grisha. Though more surprising is that he is here speaking to the General at all.
"Ivan, it is good to see you." When he smiles he means it and Ivan's eyes flash with surprise before he buries it under that professionalism he prefers.
"As you say, Moi Soverenyi. There have been some changes to the roster for the crossing tomorrow." He launches into a concise report about burned maps and a cartography unit being added to the crew.
It is the first time that Aleksander has a feeling that something is off. It's the scratch of deja vu in his mind, the familiarity of each word. He dares to hope, "What are the names of those in the unit?" He asks, keeping his tone casual.
"I am not sure off hand. Would you like me to send someone for the list?" He asks. Kirigan isn't surprised by his confusion, normally he wouldn't care for a few map making otkazat'sya.
"No need." He stands, straightens his kafta and prepares himself for the keen sharp taste of disappointment. Perhaps his punishment will be her not being there. A life and future fighting for the Grisha only to fail again and again -- alone. "I will go myself."
Ivan's confusion grows, but he nods and disappears back out of the tent to stand watch over his chambers while he is gone. Though Kirigan has no doubt Fedyor will hear all about it later. The heartrender is always particularly concerned when the General changes his normal routine.
If he'd been a few hundred years younger perhaps the idea of this strange time shift would shock him, but well Aleksander is a Morozova. There is plenty in the world he does not understand. And if this shift brings him to her, he does not care for the how or why.
The camp proves to be more of the same as he crosses from Second Army tents to the First. As soon as he crosses that line the looks he's getting change. Soldiers whisper to themselves as he makes his way where he needs to go. Troops question what the Black General is doing among them, instead of with the Grisha. He's not seen here unless headed for the command tent which he's long now passed. The cartography unit is set up among the hovels of cheap otkazat'sya tents. It's a faded off red with packed mud outside the entryway, before he'd never have looked twice at it.
He does not wait, there is no guard to greet him. Inside is a group of non-Grisha, young men and women all turn to stare at him. One blonde he does not remember the name of steps forward and salutes.
That in and of itself is unusual, they don't usually bother. He searches the crowd, seeking out the flawless features of his half-Shu Sun Summoner. She is not present. The disappointment burns. "Is your entire unit here?" He asks, voice sharper than he means it to be. He doesn't want to startle them into giving the wrong answers.
The man that saluted shuffles his feet, "No sir, we're down one. She's usually hanging around a friend of hers at this time."
"Her name?" Aleksander tilts a questioning eyebrow up.
One of the women in the back makes a face of distaste. "If you're looking for our best cartographer it's not Starkov. She's a Shu orphan, no formal training. Any of us would be better suited, did you need a specific map?"
He turns to look at her, and sees her desire to please, a desire to rise the ranks. But she's already told him everything he needs to know. Starkov. Alina. She's here.
A second chance.
"No, I'm looking for Alina Starkov." He examines the first boy again. "What way?"
"Toward the east, we run fights sometimes to blow off steam. Oretsev likes to participate. She's usually the one cleaning him up. She's got dark hair - "
Aleksander can't handle the idea of someone else trying to describe Alina to him. He would know her in any shadow, in any light. Blind, dead or otherwise. "No need." He nods his head in a mimic of a thank you and leaves.
Of course, she is off treating her tracker's wounds. Spending all her free time looking after others instead of taking time for herself. He would do this differently, he would do this right. He knew his mistakes, knew what he'd done wrong.
He would fix it. This would not be a lesson, it would be redemption.
The tent the cartographer had described was easy to find, all he had to do was follow the shouts for violence. Soldiers are all the same, they never really change.
He slips inside and ignores the looks, most people don't even notice him too busy with the fight in the center of bodies. Kirigan is tall enough to see the two men in its center, one of them is Malyen and the other is an unnamed soldier.
But more importantly is Alina, standing there between two other soldiers, not in the front, but one row behind. Her eyes are stuck on her tracker, making sure he's alright. He knows her well enough to see the worry on her brow, the frustration she hides that he wants to do these fights at all.
Aleksander wants to run to her, drop to his knees, and beg forgiveness. But if this is the past, then she does not know him. There is nothing for her to remember to forgive. A fresh clean slate, this opportunity is near holy.
So instead of running to her side he keeps an eye on her and waits for the fight to play out. Once she slips out of the tent he can speak to her without drawing too much attention. He doesn't want all eyes on her yet.
They do not know who she is, he wants to keep it that way. Keep her safe, free from other influences.
He watches the fight, watches Malyen win at the last second, and then listens to the Grisha who comes forward. "I'll take a turn. How about it? Just me and you."
He too does not notice his General, but Kirigian notices him. He's already made it clear he does not want Grisha to flaunt to the First Army. It increases the agitation that already exists between the two. It's breaking several rules for the squaller to be in this tent at all, but he lets it play out. For now.
Malyen's friends try to talk him off, and the ringleader of the whole event starts to protest.
That is Aleksander's opportunity. He steps into the ring behind his Grisha and the crowd goes silent. "I'll take you up on it." His voice is casual, confident.
The squaller turns, a victory smile on his face until he sees who has spoken. He loses the smile. "Moi Soverenyi, I will not fight you."
Kirigan tilts his head up, "But you will fight an otkazat'sya. Botkin taught you how to fight did he not? You would mock a soldier you are supposed to fight beside. Flaunt an advantage you do not need. Fight me, or return to your duties." If it had been anyone else he would have told the squaller to apologize too.
The Grisha makes a run for it out of the tent, and Aleksander looks toward the fight setter and nods, "As you were."
"Sir." He nods respectfully in turn and seems somewhat grateful for the assistance. Dealing with an arrogant Grisha is never easy when all you have is fists and muskets.
Aleksander doesn't much notice because he's caught the attention of his Sun Summoner. She's watching him with curiosity, interest instead of fear. Oh, how he missed the innocent way she looked at him before he collared her. The bright fresh eyes of a woman still living a normal life.
His lips tip up and he nods his head in her direction before walking back out of the tent. Speaking to her now would cause too much talk, in an hour or so he will send Fedyor for her. For now, he returns to the Second Army.
Talk is already reaching them about his step in by the time he gets back. He passes Ivan without a word and goes straight for his reports, better to familiarize himself with where they are in the war. A few sheets later he's confident enough that he has a general idea of the goings on in Kribirsk.
"Fedyor." He calls out not looking up from the table. A moment later the heartrender steps through the door and silently waits for orders. Aleksander looks up and is taken back with his little smile. He had lost the right to that. Alina is not the only one he would need to do better for.
If he was going to be the man she wanted him to be it starts with every Grisha. So he returns Fedyor's gentleness with his own small smile. "I have a job for you."
The Grisha nods, straightening up. That little statement could mean anything to him. And right now, with his mistakes in the past, he would still kill for his General.
"I need you to bring Alina Starkov, assistant cartographer of the First Army to me." He gestures Fedyor closer and keeps his voice low enough that they would not be overheard. "She is my Sun Summoner. Tell Ivan and no one else. She is now the most important person in this camp. Her life is to be placed above my own."
He's close enough to see the sheer amazement overtake Fedyor's face, the hope for the future. He nods quickly, and rushes out of the room to do as Kirigan asks. They will need to move carefully in the coming days.
Aleksander spins plans in his head to keep himself busy while he waits. It takes Fedyor almost an hour to return, but when he does his heart is slamming into his ribs. It's one thing to see Alina in the distance, and entirely another for her to be standing in his tent. Right there, right in front of him. So close all he's need is a few steps and she'd be in his arms again.
He does not bother with the intimidating pretense he usually uses with the First Army. He does not want to intimidate her, he wants to dazzle her. Show her that Grisha, though they are something to fear, are also something wonderful too.
He turns and looks at Fedyor and his saint. She's clearly confused, arms pressed hard into her sides, posture stick straight. Nervous. She's trying hard not to look around his tent, but she also wants to. Fedyor is not helping with the way he's looking at her, all excitement and trepidation.
"Leave us."
His heartrender nods and disappears out the way he came, resting at the entrance to make sure no one comes in. It leaves him alone with Alina.
Instead of looking more nervous, she seems to relax a little, her eyes darting around quickly before they end up back on the floor. She doesn't speak, doesn't demand to know why she is there. A dutiful soldier.
"Forgive the intrusion, Miss Starkov." He says shifting to give her his full attention. "I noticed you earlier today, and needed to speak to you about something I find concerning. It will only take a minute of your time."
"Mal wasn't going to fight him." She cuts in, voice defensive. And Aleksander loves her. No fear for her own place in this, only the desire to protect those she loves. Alina doesn't even consider this has something to do with her and not her firebird.
He tries to remain passive, "Have no fear, this doesn't regard him."
Her brow furrows. "Do you need a map then?"
Aleksander can't help but chuckle. 'I need you' he wants to say, but instead, he drawls, "I've been asked that twice today. No, my maps are quite up to date. You wouldn't have reason to know this but unlike many of my Grisha, I have unique gifts. For instance, my gifts allow me to notice others of my kind in a crowd."
She doesn't say anything, now she waits for him to expand. What he's suggesting, he knows is dangerous to her. It means leaving her precious tracker, starting over somewhere new.
"I believe you are Grisha, Miss Starkov." He gets to his point, "Were you tested?" A pointless question, but one he must ask regardless. Aleksander already knows she will lie.
"I was." She says, with all the confidence of a woman loyal to her core.
"I see. Then this won't take long at all." He holds out his hand to her, and this time he begs she will do so without fear. Let this be different. "All I ask is you take my hand and let me check for certain. It will not hurt."
Alina looks at his hand, then at him. He watches her weigh her options, but then he sees her little spark of curiosity. Part of her longs to know if she is Grisha, he knows that. He knows her.
He's still several feet away so she has to walk forward to take his hand. The moment she is a breath away from touching him he plunges the room into shadow. He layers them thick so none of her light will escape and give them away.
And once he feels her hand in his own he presses his energy toward her, strokes her power inside her until she begins to glow. It's as beautiful as it always is. She's gorgeous, bright and wide-eyed as she looks at him.
They're alone, it gives him the chance to beam at her. He pushes all of his joy, all of his desperation into it. How grateful he is to have another chance, and she smiles back caught in astonishment.
Unlike before it is not dread in which she looks at him, afraid of her own power. It is with wonder. "That's me?" She asks not letting go of his hand, she is still the only thing lighting the room. Her glow is more beautiful than any star in the sky.
"Only you." He swears. "I have been waiting for you."
"Am I a fire summoner?" She asks, and still, she does not move away from him. It makes his chest feel warm.
He chuckles, and she looks up at him at the sound. "No, you are the Sun Summoner." Aleksander leans it, and fights the urge to rest his free hand on her side. "My equal."
This time that would not be a paltry lie.
Her wonder fades into worry and to his displeasure she removes her hand and steps back. He drops the shadows away and they are back standing in dusk together. "What does that mean for me?"
"It means you belong at the Little Palace with the others." He says, trying to be soft.
"But, I can't - I won't leave my best friend." She crosses her arms like it will make her look more tenacious. He tries not to grin at her expense. "Can't I stay here?"
"No." He shakes his head. "It's not safe for you here, but if your friend is so important to you then he can come with you. Though he cannot stay in the Little Palace I can find lodging for him in Os Alta and he can visit."
Having Mal closer is better where Aleksander can keep an eye on them. Besides it's crucial to build her trust early on, he can't make her feel caged. Mal is an unfortunate necessity. Especially when her face lights up in relief.
"Thank you." It sounds so genuine, so soft that he can't be terribly irritated by the decision. "I need to talk to him about all of this."
He reaches a hand out for her and stops, dropping it away. "Tomorrow. The less people that know the better. You can tell him you're Grisha, but please wait for tomorrow to tell him what kind."
She nods, "Okay, I understand. You're already being so kind to allow him to come with us. If you think it's best I'll keep it to myself for now."
Us.
Already they are an us.
"Ivan will accompany you tonight, he'll stay out of your way and out of sight. It's only a precaution." He will not budge on her safety, not while they are on the battlefield.
"Alright." She nods, "May I go, moi soverenyi?" The title sounds choppy on her tongue as she recalls what he was called earlier.
His lip twists up into a smile, "Yes."
When she goes he immediately issues the order for Ivan to follow, and lasts all of ten minutes before he realizes there will be no getting anything done without knowing she's secure. Night has already fallen, it makes it easy to pull his shadows around him as he walks.
No one notices him as he slips toward where he knows Alina is. Only Ivan spots him and that's because he's attuned to his heartbeat. The heartrender gives him a barely visible nod of greeting before continuing his duty.
She's inside a smaller soldier's tent, the tracker's likely. He slips closer even though he knows he's encroaching on her privacy and settles himself in the shadow of the tent. With Ivan near the front and him in the back she is as secure as he can make her here. He's also close enough to listen to her conversation, and he's done too many despicable things to feel remotely guilty about it.
"What did the Black General want?" Malyen asks, his voice edging between anger and curiosity. But Mal's opinion is not one Kirigan gives a damn about.
Alina takes a long moment to answer, gathering up her courage no doubt. Aleksander wishes he could see through the tent to have an idea of what is going on inside. "You remember when the testers came and we ran to the meadow?"
"Yeah. Of course. I was scared shitless."
"I think I always knew and that's why I wanted to run." Her voice is soft, contemplative. He allows himself to think of a young Alina in her orphanage scared of being Grisha. He is glad in a way that he did not know her then.
If he had raised her, she would have been his daughter. Aleksander does not want her as a daughter. But he is also frustrated that his Sun Summoner lived an unpleasant upbringing just like he did. But there is no changing the past, only the future.
"Knew what, Alina?"
"I'm Grisha." She says, and Aleksander is proud of the way she says it. Not like she wants to give it to someone else. Like it is a title she wants. If he'd known how much he could change just by not sending her through the Fold, by being gentle and private.
Before he'd flaunted her among the others, he'd wanted to own her. And a part of him still does, in that way, a man longs for a woman. A ring on her finger, a place in his sheets, his last name as her own.
But he would not force that thought down her throat the way he had before. Aleksander had forgotten the obvious. They have an eternity. Even if she chooses Malyen, he will be there to help her mourn.
He will wait for her.
Kirigan listens to the silence, and doesn't like the tension he feels in it.
"Mal, please." Her voice is pleading and he hates that he can so easily recognize it from the moments she pleaded with him time and time again. "I'm no different than I was. The General says you can come with, we can go together."
"To what muck the stables?" He scoffs.
Aleksander doesn't think that's the worst idea.
"He didn't say."
"Why would he?" Another scoff, "I'm human, not worthy of the Little Palaces' food and gold. What did you offer him to get him to agree to such a thing?"
"I told him that I didn't want to leave without you. He may be a General, but he probably has friends. He understood." She explains.
"Right."
Aleksander goes stone still at the change in tone. He knows that tone, knows that whatever he says next will be a soldier's words.
"He likes Shu women I take it?"
It takes all of his control, all of it, not to walk into that tent and lift that child up by his throat. Who did he think he was to speak to the sun in such a way? To insinuate that sweet Alina is anything less than a saint, that she would sell herself off for an advantage.
"That's cruel Mal. He doesn't seem like that at all. If you want to stay here so badly then fine. I'll write you when I arrive." She huffs and leaves the tent and Aleksander is quick to follow still concealed by his shadows.
Ivan is not as hidden, but he's silent as he walks behind her. Alina doesn't attempt to speak to him as she returns to her own unit's tent. They seem to share a sleeping area. She'll never have to share a thing again.
Aleksander guards her all night.