Chapter Text
“Ho ho ho! King Nikolai has arrived bearing gifts for all the good grisha girls and boys!” The afformentioned tsar sang as he entered the Little Palace.
“I don’t see you bearing any gifts,” snapped Zoya, “so close the doors before it starts snowing in here!”
“My presence is a gift.” Zoya groaned, exasperated by his response. It was times like this that were Alina’s favourite part of being back in Os Alta.
She, the triumvirate, and a few other grisha had been decorating the domed hall till Nikolai had barged in. Most of the younger students had gone to visit their hometowns and families for the holidays, and older members of the army were already stationed around Ravka, so hardly anyone was left at the Little Palace. So in spite of that, or because of it, Genya had suggested fixing up the place. She had claimed that the extra amount of festivity would be fun, and she wasn’t wrong there. The whole attempt at decorating, which had been going on for hours at this point, made Alina feel like she was part of a big, and somewhat dysfunctional, family.
Thanks to a nearly day long struggle, the domed hall was now glittering with the help of decorations strewn about its walls, arches, and a huge pine tree by the main entrance. David and Genya had created strings of lights that could activate with the help of a sun summoner, but to the misfortune of Alina and the others, they were fond of getting tangled and not so fond of staying up. Picking the tree was another story, as it had taken the group nearly 3 hours, and a few fights, to decide on the perfect one. The squallers' abilities and Tolya’s height had made decorating said tree fairly fast, though Adrik had broken a few ornaments in the process of trying to impress Zoya. But other than a few burnt out bulbs and some colourful shattered glass, it was possible that the Little Palace now looked more stunning than the first time Alina had seen it.
Though the whole room glowed and Alina loved setting it up, part of her still felt a bit empty and a bit cold as she looked around. Nikolai was talking animatedly to the triumvirate about something to do with making his flying ships more winter-friendly. Adrik and a few corporalnik were huddled together playing cards at a dining table, pretending to listen intently to Tolya’s poetry. Tamar and Nadia were curled up by a tiled oven, buried in a pile of pillows and blankets, the latter resting her head on the former's shoulder. Two sun summoners and a few fabricators were even playing with the broken lights. As happy as she was, Alina couldn’t deny that she felt like something was still missing.
It was now 4 years after the end of the civil war, and a little over half a year since she and Mal had divorced. Seperating was messy at first, but after a brutal back and forth, they finally agreed that the marriage was rushed and a result of them missing their childhood. From time to time Alina did visit Keramzin, checking in on him and the orphanage, but her role was back in Os Alta. Now she spent her days tutoring her sun summoners in everything from the art of invisibility to the precision of the cut. All of this she did while the rest of the country, and the world, remained unaware of the fact that their Sankta was alive, and unable to call even the tiniest pinprick of light.
Occasionally, Alina thought back to her early days as a grisha, but her mind always drifted to one person in particulare. Wherever she looked, whether it was by the lake or in the war room, she saw him, though she knew it was merely her memories. If he was somehow alive, she was sure that her abilities and their connection would’ve returned as well. Although, there were moments where she thought she made the shadows jump, and there were cloudy days she felt the sun dance on her skin. Either way, Alina often felt like the Darkling had never truly left her.
Without noticing, her fingers began tapping the spot where the antlers had been as she thought of Aleksander. The first time she spent the holidays in Os Alta, he had been somewhere else in the country with another part of the 2nd army. If he had been at the palace, would he have spent the time with her? Would he have sat alone with her and given her a gift as part of the act or because he was lonely? It was pointless to think of, since he wasn’t sentimental after living so long, but the thought still bothered her. Alina told herself she didn’t care, told herself that she didn’t need an answer, but something in the back of her mind said she did.
“Hey, now’s not the time to mope about Mal. I’m sure he’s alright,” a voice said from behind her, “or were you thinking about how much you want to marry a certain king of Ravka?”
“On the contrary, moi tsar , I was listing the presents I wanted you to get me,” Alina forced a laugh as she turned to where Nikolai stood.
“Sorry if I missed something, but you should’ve written me a letter like everyone else. You know how many deliveries I need to make in one night… You alright though?”
“I’m fine, just a bit tired is all.” He didn’t entirely believe her, but Nikolai didn’t press Alina for any details.
The rest of the night was spent lounging around, the girl enjoying the comforting, and for once kind of quiet, company of her friends. She gorged herself on an endless amount of pastries, and drank tea with Genya the way they did when they first met. After, she shared some kvas with everyone as they debated the pros and cons of a drunk Zoya, much to the squaller’s dismay. At one point Alina sat on the floor to watch Oncat paw at a sleigh bell, only for him to lose interest and start chasing a beam that someone had conjured up. The little games, the food, and the conversations were all welcome distractions from her earlier thoughts, keeping her from dwelling on the past.