Chapter Text
When she wakes up in the past, it doesn't take her too terribly long to realize that it isn't some sort of dream—this is what she and Zoya wanted, after all. However, it does take her a few days to adjust to being able to summon her light again. She's used to the shadows that skirt around the edges of her senses—they are old friends, at her beck and call ever since she plunged a knife into Aleksander's chest. But having her light once more is something that takes her breath away.
Her young body is unaccustomed to summoning at all, though, so it takes some practice those first couple of days. She spends every spare moment she can find tucked away in hiding, calling her light and his shadows alike. It has been centuries, and yet the image of him in her mind has not faded. Her heart flutters in her chest at the thought of finally seeing him again. Checking the date, she finds that she has nearly two weeks until she is due in Kribirsk, and it takes everything in her to keep from showing up early—she doesn't want to spark suspicion or have to answer questions about her presence. She spends the days getting reacquainted with her light, and strengthening her body, still so weak in this time.
When she finally makes her way to Kribirsk, Alina finds her gaze automatically wandering over the army camp. Her eyes find what she's looking for, but she doesn't dare go to him yet, no matter how her heart aches to see him. Instead, she spends time with her cartography unit, and with Mal. She's missed her friends, their shorter, otkazat’sya lives—and the war—having taken them from her much too early.
The day before the skiff is supposed to make its voyage across the Fold, it happens. “Alina!” Alina is walking through the camp when someone calls her name; a voice she hasn't heard in centuries, and one that certainly should not know her name now. She spins around, eyes going wide at the sight of Fedyor standing there in his red kefta. Her heart leaps into her throat as she feels the sting behind her eyes. She has no idea how , but she can tell by the way he's looking at her that he knows her; that this is her Fedyor.
“ Fedyor ,” she breathes his name and her feet are moving before she can even process it. The grin that breaks out on Fedyor's face makes her vision blur with tears as she leaps forward to hug him. His arms are tight around her and she lets herself cling to him for just a moment. When they separate, she blinks up at him in shock. “How is this possible? When Zoya and I…it was over two centuries after… how?? ” she rambles a bit and then just stares at him, lifting one hand to swipe at her eyes before the tears can get too far down her cheeks. Fedyor just grins at her.
“Ah yes, Zoya told us what you did. We don't know why the Making sent us along with you,” he tells her quietly with a little shrug.
“Wait, Zoya told you… us ?? Who is us ?” Alina gasps softly as Fedyor's words sink in.
“Vanya and I, Zoya, Genya and David, too,” Fedyor tells her happily, grabbing her hand and tugging gently until she moves to follow him. “Zoya assured us you would be one of us, but I admit, we worried as the days went by,” he explains as they walk, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm. She has no doubt they make a bizarre image—one of the Black General's Heartrenders happily chatting away with a First Army mapmaker—but she doesn't care.
“And…the General?” Alina's voice is quiet and tentative when she finally manages the words that have hovered on the tip of her tongue since she spotted her favorite Heartrender. When Fedyor pauses and, after a moment, shakes his head, Alina lets out a heavy breath. “That's for the best, I believe,” she whispers, leaning into Fedyor a little more. He drops her hand from his arm momentarily so that he can wrap his arm around her shoulders in a half hug and Alina gives him a small, thankful smile before he drops his arm and they return to their previous position. She squeezes his arm where her fingers rest, and he gives her a soft smile.
She isn't surprised when he takes her to his and Ivan's tent, ushering her inside. What does surprise her, however, is the warm greeting she receives from Ivan. The gruff Heartrender’s eyes widen when he turns and spots her, but he looks relaxed and actually happy to see her. “ Moya soverenya, ” she knows her eyebrows go up at the title, but she smiles, even stepping forward and pulling the tall man into a quick hug. Fedyor's soft laughter reaches her ears and her smile turns to a grin as she steps back again.
“It's good to see you too, Ivan,” she tells the other man easily. He looks a bit disgruntled by the hug, but he nods in response to her words. “We have a lot of catching up to do,” she says with a glance at Fedyor, and both men nod in agreement. “Do you know where Zo is?”
“Commander Nazyalensky will most likely be with her unit this morning,” Ivan answers.
“I'll go fetch her!” Fedyor says brightly, disappearing from the tent before either she or Ivan can protest. Alina chuckles softly at that, glancing at Ivan with a lift of her brow.
“He left us alone here on purpose, I imagine,” she says knowingly.
“Fedya believes we may have…bridges to mend,” Ivan tells her slowly, and she can tell he thinks his husband is correct.
“How much did he tell you?” Alina asks curiously, finding herself perching on the edge of the desk set up inside the tent.
“Everything, I believe? At least until he joined me in death,” Ivan’s words are quiet, and Alina hears the emotion behind them when he mentions his husband's death.
“Did he tell you about this?” Alina murmurs, holding out a hand and calling the shadows to her, little tendrils swirling around her fingers as she moves them. Ivan's eyes widen at the sight, and Alina gives him a pained smile. “I am glad he had someone so loyal at his side, Ivan,” she tells him warmly. The two of them fall into silence after he nods, but it's only a moment later that the tent flap moves again.
Alina grins at the sight of her best friend, and she springs forward to hug the other woman tightly. Zoya hugs her back just as tight, despite the fact that for them, it's only been a few weeks since they last saw each other. “I'm so glad it worked!” Zoya smiles as she pulls back and Alina grins.
“Fedyor says Genya and David are like us, too?” Alina double checks not because she doesn't believe Fedyor, but simply because she needs to hear it again.
“Yes! Gen and David are back home, but they're like us, Lina,” Zoya tells her happily.
They spend the next hour all catching up and talking about what is to come. Alina tells Zoya that she won't be on the skiff in the morning, and her friend promises to keep an eye out for “her tracker”. The sun summoner rolls her eyes at her friend, but Zoya has been calling Mal “her tracker” for nearly three centuries, so she's used to it. When she brings up Aleksander, the conversation takes a tentative turn into planning and scheming, and it's decided that Alina will be the one to tell him the truth. At first, her friends argue against it, but she reminds them all that finding out the truth too late is what ruined everything in the beginning the first time around. She won't let it fall apart so easily again.
Later that night, hours after the sun has left the sky, Alina still can't sleep. This doesn't really surprise her, considering all the events of the day, and a heavy sigh escapes her lungs as she finally sits up. Her gaze travels over her unit, all fast asleep and snoring away on their cots. Careful not to wake any of them, she swings her legs over the edge of her cot and stands.
She doesn't bother with a coat. Between the warm light now humming in her veins again and her affinity for the shadows since Aleksander's death, the cold hasn't touched her in centuries. There is no moon tonight, but Alina enjoys the inky darkness more anyways. Her feet carry her across the camp and beyond, the shadows of night swirling around her comfortingly. Before she knows it, Alina finds herself at the edge of the Fold.
The shadows reach for her and she lifts a hand to reach back, smiling softly as she feels them brush over her skin. She lets them weave through her fingers for a few minutes before she drops her hand back to her side. The night is mostly silent around her, with just the occasional sound carrying across the air from camp. But then, she feels the shadows around her react, and she feels her heart stutter in her chest because she knows what— who —they are reacting to.
“A dangerous place to be in the middle of the night, don't you think?” His voice is wary but curious, and Alina's breath hitches at the sound. She feels the ache deep in her chest and has to take a deep breath before she finally turns to glance at him over her shoulder. He stands a few paces away, and Alina has to force herself not to stare. With a quiet breath, she turns back towards the Fold.
“Maybe for most,” she murmurs softly. But then she reaches a hand out towards the shadows and a small smile lifts her lips as the shadows reach back for her. She hears the sharp intake of breath behind her, and her smile grows just a bit. “But I am not most people, Aleksander,” she whispers his name, barely a breath on her lips, but she knows he hears her.
This time, she turns around completely, finding him watching her with a guarded, wary expression. “How do you know that name?” His voice is harsh, but she brushes it off. She doesn't blame him for his paranoia—not anymore. Alina has lived too long not to understand him now.
“The Making works in funny ways,” she tells him simply, resisting the urge to roll her eyes when his gaze narrows. “I'll explain further, don't worry. But it's not a story to be overheard,” she adds with a pointed look.
“There is no one here but us…” the way he pauses in his words makes Alina chuckles softly as she remembers that he doesn't know her name yet.
“Alina,” she offers up her name easily, then turns back towards the Fold.
“Alina,” her name on his lips draws a small gasp from her lips, and she swallows thickly before she continues talking.
“This is not the first time we have met—at least, not for me,” Alina tells him quietly. She debates silently for a moment on what to say next. “For me, this day is nearly four centuries in my past,” she pauses to take a slow breath before diving in. “In another life, I didn't know what I was—what I am,” Aleksander is silent behind her. “I went into the Fold on the skiff that leaves tomorrow morning, and we were attacked by the volcra. Afterwards, I was terrified and confused, and I was dragged to your tent, brought before you and forced to face my startling new reality. Genya and Fedyor made it easier—adjusting to life in the Little Palace, that is—but your mother likes to sow discontent, doesn't she?” Alina turns then, catching sight of the shock on his face before it disappears behind the mask again.
“I ran,” she sighs heavily, flicking her gaze back to the Fold again before she looks up at him, holding his gaze this time. “Your mother told me the truth about you—who you are, and your plans for the Fold—and it scared me. I was young and naive and I didn't understand. But I understand now,” Alina murmurs, watching Aleksander battle with the many emotions that are no doubt raging within him. She closes her eyes for a moment, taking a slow breath. Then her eyelids flutter open again and she looks around, ensuring they're completely alone.
Alina turns her back to him again, but it's more turning her back to their camp than to him. She holds her hand close to her chest as she calls on her light, using her other hand to keep the little orb swathed in shadows, dimming the light. Her lips tilt up in a hesitant smile when she hears him move closer. He's so close now that she's certain if she stepped back, her back would meet his chest. Carefully, she peels the shadows away from her little ball of light, and her smile widens when she hears him curse in Old Ravkan. “ Sun Summoner ,” his words are a whisper, and she feels his breath ghost over her neck, making her shiver.
She banishes the ball of light now that he's seen it, and when she turns her head, she isn't surprised to find him mere inches away. “I am not a young, naive little girl anymore, Aleksander,” her voice is firm, but not without the soft edge caused by all of the emotions swirling in her chest. “I will not be lied to, and I will not be used,” she takes a shaky breath. She almost tells him how she ended his life, but Alina is not so sure he's ready to hear such a thing. Lifting a hand to quickly wipe at the couple of tears that have escaped, Alina tries to shove all of her emotions back into their box for now. It takes a couple tries, but after a few minutes, she takes a step away from him, turning to face him fully again as she speaks. “I know all of this is unsettling, General. I know that your instincts tell you to take me and hide me away, but I don't hide. Not anymore. As far as anyone here knows, I'm just a mapmaker. Tomorrow, you can whisk me away to the Little Palace with Ivan and Fedyor. Tonight, though,” she pauses, her gaze drifting over his shoulder towards their armies’ camp.
“Tonight?” Aleksander prompts after a moment, and Alina drags her gaze back to his as a sigh escapes her lips.
“Tonight, there are some things you need to know,” she finally says. When he lifts a brow at her, she gives him a small scowl. “Details, Aleksander. Your refusal to be honest with me is what set us on such a terrible path. I will not be repeating your mistakes,” Alina tells him firmly, holding his gaze even when his expression darkens at her words.