Chapter Text
It was the day before the royal wedding and everyone was concerned about the last details of the ceremony. Despite the expectations, the Queen and Living Saint of Ravka still held the court, although it seemed that today she would manage to resolve the problems of the nation in a relatively short time.
Alina was sprawled over the throne, the crown of light around her head, but the lazy pose didn’t make her any less focused on the complaints of both small folk and courtiers.
A sudden move in the corner of her eye made Alina sit up straight, but she relaxed when she felt the pleasant resonance of their bond. The Queen’s Darkling navigated the Throne Room as swiftly as shadow and in no time he was at her side, sitting on the armrest of the throne and whispering in her ear frantically.
“... the diplomats… Shu Empress…”
She eyed him up and down appreciatively. Tomorrow, this fine man will be undeniably made hers. As much as Alina enjoyed having him so close, she couldn’t wait to see him sit on his own throne. Years ago, Grisha being crowned ruler of Ravka was something impossible, but now not one, but two of them will reign.
Things were going much smoother than Alina ever expected, but she underestimated the Ravkan religiousness. Perhaps, if she had made peace with the Apparat at the very beginning… But what was done was done, and she wouldn’t change a thing in her rise to power, even if the news of having her own cults founded abroad was a bit concerning at times. On the other hand, she once overheard some outlanders call her the White Heretic. That made Alina ridiculously proud - albeit slightly self-conscious about her now completely white hair - while Aleksander was indignant on her behalf.
The last case today was a matter of the orphanages. A hilarious rumor had it that one Malyen Oretsev, tracker turned farmer, was trying to use his wife’s former status as a member of the Second Army to take over the Keramzin orphanage. The consequences of Zoya’s actions in the aftermath of the occupation of Os Alta made Alina almost pity her schoolyard nemesis. She couldn’t imagine suffering through such a terrible fate…
Finally, the audience was finished and the Queen was free to go. After all, there were still many preparations to see about…
Even out of the golden kefta, the pure white of Alina’s hair was too distinctive to let her stay undercover for too long, but she had enough time to sneak into grounds around the Little Palace. As much as they loved her, Grisha were more likely to leave the Queen alone when she needed some time to herself, and even today they didn’t disappoint. When the little ones seemed to grow suspicious of the strange Inferni woman, lazing around in the sun, older students quickly sent them away to the next class.
“What are we doing?” she smiled when she heard David’s voice, and soon the Fabrikator joined her on the grass.
“Don’t you know every bride needs more beauty sleep?”
“Then I guess I will have to start preparing for my own wedding. I barely see Genya these days!”
For a while, they just laid like that, head to head, watching the clouds race upon the sky, until Alina’s eyes closed.
It couldn't be more than an hour before a long shadow covered them from the sun and a light nudge to her calf woke Alina up.
“Move, stupid.”
Ivan took more space than she and David combined, and Alina muttered something rude.
“What was that?” She could imagine the look on his face. Queen or not, some things never changed.
“Nothing. Are you ready for tomorrow?”
“Why would I have to be ready? You’re the one who’s getting married, to our soverenyi , at that!”
“I don’t know whether you’re more excited or angry… Should I tell Fedyor?”
Alina supposed she earned that, when she tried to fight off Ivan’s attack. They fought, both half-blinded by the sun, and then glared in unison when David tried to separate them.
Eventually, the three of them fell back on the grass in one messy, laughing pile.
“What’s purple and blue and red all over?”
Each of their keftas was a work of art, but together they were something else.
In the history of Ravka, no bride has ever arrived at the Cathedral in the Darkling’s black carriage, although many had tried.
Alina leaned heavily on Ivan and watched patiently as Genya commanded all ladies-in-waiting, like a General on a battlefield. Once they won against the formidable enemies that were the hems and the royal-length train of Alina’s wedding kefta , the murderous climb through the stone steps began.
During the ride she had the chance to enjoy the sight of the capital. Rebuilding Os Alta after the occupation and the Fold took two years, and Alina dared to say that the change was for the better. The best example was that the former Grand Palace, now a placeholder for her piece of the Shadow Fold (renamed “the Shadow Tower” by smallfolk, for its perfectly round circumference and seemingly endless height) no longer disrupted the beauty of Os Alta.
She smiled at the thought, but one pointed glance from Ivan was enough to bring back her royal composure.
“Try not to look too scary before you seal the deal, will you?” he muttered, and she had to cough to hide an evil laugh. Everyone knew it was too late for anyone to save Aleksander from her. They were bound tighter than even Small Science could bind.
As if sensing her thought, the star-shaped locket warmed up significantly and she patted it with her free hand.
Suddenly, there were no more stairs and Ivan walked Alina to the wide open gates of the Cathedral. There were already people gathered inside, and of course she could see the Apparat nearby, ready to begin with the first blessings, but her eyes focused on a familiar silhouette.
Alina saw him first, and she couldn’t get enough.
She should have guessed David and Genya had a surprise for both of them - instead of the best black kefta with the subtle golden embroidery of the Queen’s Darkling, Aleksander was dressed in gold and adorned with not-so-subtle suns.
Her colours.
Her symbols.
Her husband.
But it didn’t take long for him to feel her, and Aleksander turned to look at Alina.
His jaw dropped. She couldn’t help a wild, unqueenly smile.
Sometimes, they were just too alike…
Because Alina’s wedding kefta was so black it was darker than the night, with decolletage tasteful but cut low enough to proudly display her locket, with silver adornments on the gown… And the only suns on her were in eclipse.
“I warned you,” Ivan said, surprisingly threateningly, while offering Aleksander her hand. She never knew he could speak like that to their General…
The Darkling seemed to pale a little after that furious blush that took him over at Alina’s sight, but the fingers that threaded through hers weren’t shaking. His touch felt as right as always, and after nodding seriously at Ivan’s silliness, he had his eyes only for Alina.
“You’re beauty is unmatched,” was all he had time to say before the Apparat cleared his throat.
The couple turned towards him to receive the three blessings, and Alina stole a glance at their guests.
David stood nearby, with Genya’s arm around him, focused on handling carefully two matching rings, Rusalye’s scales shining gold.
Ivan was sobbing out of the sudden, hiding his face in Fedyor’s red-clad chest.
She saw other familiar faces, Grisha and otkazat’sya, Ravkans and foreigners.
Alina could even see the terrified delegation from Fjerda and Shu Han - she supposed keeping one witness from each nation alive and then sending them as a warning made Ravka’s neighbors sufficiently afraid. Not to mention it was quite poetic, how they were spared from the Fold almost in place of certain two Ravkans…
Once they started to walk towards the altar, Aleksander leaned slightly to whisper in her ear.
“Alina, about that Black Heretic thing…”
She held back a deep sigh. She won’t indulge him for now, or he would never realize that he doesn’t need to compete with his extraordinary ancestor.
Alina stopped them in the middle of the Cathedral and caressed that beloved face of his.
“The only man I ever want at my side is you, Aleksander Morozova,” she said pointedly and then, to the indignance of the Apparat at the joy of everyone else, she took advantage of her heels and stole a kiss from her favorite Darkling, the Black Heretic all but forgotten when they resumed their walk.
When the time came for the Apparat to adorn them with the traditional wedding crowns, Aleksander disturbed the light she Summoned by weaving them matching shadow crowns. Their friends applauded, their subjects gaped, the Apparat fumed, and Alina…
Alina smiled.
the end (mostly)