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wafflesandkruge · 2 years

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my golden crown of sorrows, my bloody sword to swing

“Zoya,” Alina said, again in that strange tone. “Look at me.”

“Is that an order?” Zoya asked even as she tilted her chin up to meet Alina’s gaze. Her eyes were almost golden in the sun with darker flecks of bronze.

Alina reached out a hand and Zoya watched, transfixed, as she wrapped a strand of Zoya’s hair around her finger. “It’s not like you listen,” Alina mused. She tugged lightly and Zoya took a halting step towards her. She placed a hand on Alina’s hip to steady herself, not missing the way Alina jolted at her touch.

“I listen when you give me a good order,” Zoya retorted.

ao3

a/n: for @yennefer-nazyalensky as a (very late) gift for @malinalovebot bday! (even tho this isn’t malina hehe) i’m so sorry this took so long pls know i love and idolize you 🥺 loosely inspired by king and delilah from florence

When Alina smiled, people fell at her feet. It was a truth as obvious to Zoya as rain falling towards the earth instead of the sky, night following day, or fire burning her if she got too close. What she didn’t understand was why seeing Alina smile at others made her heart ache.

She shifted awkwardly in her spot at Alina’s shoulder, the clinking of her armor swallowed by the usual whispers and laughter of court. Alina was arbitrating several land disputes between various lords today, and as important as it sounded, it made Zoya want to stab herself. She wished she were Nikolai. Although he was similar in rank to Zoya, Alina hadn’t specifically requested his presence as she had with Zoya. That bastard was probably off flirting with another lady he shouldn’t have been flirting with while Zoya was stuck inside.

At least the view was beautiful. Ravka’s throne room was an impossibly tall cavern of gleaming white marble and gold, high windows letting in golden rays of afternoon sun. Courtiers milled about in the wings and balcony, each one dressed in bright silks so the crowd resembled a field of wildflowers. Zoya was standing beside the throne, Alina sitting serenely upon it with her hands clasped on her lap. She wore a gown of blue silk today, excess fabric pooling at her feet. Gold sparkled around her neck and fingers. Instead of the ornate crowns preferred by other royals, Alina only wore a thin golden circlet in her pale hair. She needed no other reminder of who she was or the power she held.

“That is enough,” Alina said quietly. Zoya’s gaze jumped up, thinking Alina had caught her lost in thought, but her queen’s stern gaze was leveled at one of the kneeling lords before her dais. Her smile had evaporated.

“You are wasting my time with this petty squabble. The borders between your lands were drawn ten years ago, there is no reason to change them now. Follow the mandate of the late king and do not bother me further.”

It was as clear a dismissal as any. The lords wisely did not argue further and bowed and scraped their way out of the throne room.

Alina let out a small sigh, heard only by Zoya. “Thank the Saints they’re gone. I was about to have them arrested just so I could have some peace and quiet.”

Zoya glanced around the room, still teeming with people. “You shouldn’t be saying such things where you can be heard, Your Majesty.”

“And what would they do to me?” Alina asked with a little snort. “You worry too much.”

“And you not enough.”

The two eyed each other, neither one willing to give an inch. It was a dance as familiar to Zoya as battle. In the late afternoon sun, Alina’s eyes were a bright, molten brown only a few shades darker than the crown on her head. When Zoya had left on a campaign against Fjerda years ago, she couldn’t help seeing Alina’s eyes everywhere in the soil of a freshly turned field, the bark of a tree that had sheltered her against the rain, the pelt of a deer that had run through the trees beside them, quick as a rushing river.

Alina looked away first. She gathered her skirts in one hand and stood tall, only a few inches shorter than Zoya. A hush fell over the room.

“I feel tired,” she announced, even though she looked the very picture of health with her rosy cheeks and bright eyes. A mischievous grin curved her lips, and Zoya knew it was meant just for her. “We’ll resume this tomorrow.”

“Your Majesty,” Zoya hissed as she trailed after Alina. After she’d feigned tiredness, she had plunged into the castle’s secret passages with an unspoken invitation for Zoya to follow her. The clinking of her armor echoed down the dusty stone passage along with the rustle of Alina’s skirts against the floor. Zoya winced when she thought about how much dust the hem must have been collecting. Genya was going to kill them later.

“Yes, General?”

“I had assumed you were returning to your chambers. Because you were tired.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Alina made a sharp turn into a branching corridor Zoya hadn’t even known was there. “I’ve barely done anything all day.”

“And where are you going now?” Zoya demanded. “Without any of your guard, no less.”

“You’re with me,” Alina pointed out. “You have a sword and enough spite to best any man.”

“I insist–”

Alina paused and looked over her shoulder with an amused smile. Zoya swallowed hard.

“Are you giving me orders, General?” There was no admonishment in her tone, but Zoya still felt a small jab of embarrassment. She’d stepped out of line.

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” she ground out, training her eyes on Alina’s train.

The blue silk of Alina’s dress moved closer to Zoya’s boots. “Zoya,” Alina said, her voice strange. It wasn’t the tone of a queen, or even a commanding officer, but something more. Something less.

Zoya risked an upward glance. The expression on Alina’s face mirrored Zoya’s own emotions, something between exasperation and frustration. It had always been difficult for them to talk to each other truthfully. Zoya tilted her chin up and looked Alina in the eye. She’d always been a few inches taller than her since they were children, a fact she used to lord over her back when Zoya was nothing but a lowly squire and Alina an orphaned nobody.

They weren’t the same people anymore.

“My queen.”

“Don’t be so…” Alina stopped herself, indecision lurking in her dark eyes. Zoya held her breath. At the last moment, Alina seemed to decide against whatever she wanted to say. She shook her head.

“Let’s go. We’ve been lingering here long enough.” She turned on her heel, clearly intending for Zoya to follow.

And damn her, Zoya always would.

The lake was the last place Zoya expected to end up at. Its mirror-like surface reflected the bright blue sky above, not a cloud in sight. Wildflowers swayed in a gentle breeze. While the castle was only a short distance away, there wasn’t another person in sight.

Zoya and Alina used to come here in the summers when they were children in an effort to beat the heat. She remembered the way they’d leave their dresses on the bank and swim together, their laughter cutting through the air as easily as their faces breaking through the surface to gasp for air.

Alina sat on the bank, a pile of flowers gathered on her skirt. As Zoya watched, she wove the flowers together into the beginnings of a daisy chain, her fingers clumsy. She wondered when was the last time she’d been allowed to be a child.

Alina’s unspoken words in the castle passage still bothered Zoya. Alina rarely held back with her words, much less when they were alone. Zoya didn’t like it.

The sound of water splashing alerted Zoya. She looked up sharply to find Alina wading in the lake, her shoes and half-completed chain of flowers abandoned on the banks.

“Your Majesty—”

“Alina.” An unspoken challenge gleamed in her eyes.

“Alina,” Zoya tried, the name heavy and unfamiliar on her tongue. She hadn’t called her by her given name in years. “Get out of the lake, you’ll catch a chill.”

Always contrary, Alina waded out further. Her skirts floated around her like clouds. With the golden circlet still in her hair, she resembled the tapestries of saints hanging from the walls of the castle. Zoya’s breath caught in her throat.

“Come here,” Alina insisted, color high on her cheeks. Her smile was the sun itself.

Zoya stared for a moment. She supposed if Alina started drowning, it would be easier to save her if she was already in the water. And it was rather hot today. Before she could think further, she unbuckled her armor and left it on the grassy banks of the lake.

The water was blissfully cool against her skin. An involuntary sigh left her lips. They had only gone far enough for the water to reach their chests. Zoya stood an arms length away from Alina, her skirt brushing her knees under the surface. She wanted to move closer, to see how the silvery reflections of the water cast patterns of light across Alina’s face. She clenched her fists at her side.

“Zoya,” Alina said, again in that strange tone. “Look at me.”

“Is that an order?” Zoya asked even as she tilted her chin up to meet Alina’s gaze. Her eyes were almost golden in the sun with darker flecks of bronze.

“I listen when you give me a good order,” Zoya retorted.

Alina paused, her hand abandoning Zoya’s hair and sliding to the side of her neck instead. Her skin was warm against Zoya’s.

“Kiss me,” Alina whispered.

This time, Zoya was all too happy to obey. Kissing Alina felt as sacred as prayer, Alina’s lips soft against hers as they crashed together. Her hands tangled in Alina’s hair and knocked the circlet off her head. It could have sunk to the bottom of the lake for all Zoya cared. Alina’s nails scraped the back of her neck and Zoya couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

It was Alina. It was always Alina.

#i'm so sorry ;-; i have literally forgotten how to write #no plot just vibes #tgt #the grisha trilogy #tgt writing #zoya #alina #zoyalina #grishaverse #leigh bardugo #my writing #shadow and bone

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nuclearnik · 2 years

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A Girl Worth Fighting For

Hi all! This little ditty was written for the lovely @galwithalibrarycard for the @malinalovebot birthday exchange!

Fandom: Grisha Trilogy & Shadow and Bone show

Pairing: Mal/Alina

Rating: T

Summary: His life is different from the moment he meets her. He just doesn't know it yet.

The events of the Grisha Trilogy through Mal's eyes.

There is blood dripping from his lip the first time Mal notices her. Alonya or something, he thinks. She'd been at the orphanage a few days now but had kept to herself.

Not anymore. Now, she stands before him in rage that made her cheeks turn pink, knuckles already bruising from the punch she'd just given Martin, who held his nose as red spilled from it, no longer looking as big and scary as he had when he was shoving Mal's head into the stone wall in the garden just moments before.

The bully stomps away, and then it is only the two of them in the yard.

“I’m Alina.”

“Mal,” he says, scrubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, thanks. For that.”

She shrugs in response as if it was no big feat, like she punches nasty boys in the nose on a regular basis.

They sit at the base of a towering tree and watch the sun disappear behind the mountains, elbows just barely touching, and he feels at home for the first time in his life.

**********************************************

When their time comes to join the First Army, he doesn't see her much. Too busy with his unit and his new friends, and the ever present pretty girls eager for a tumble.

But this particular night, with the news of his mission to search for the stag heavy in the air and the stars shining brightly above, he finds Alina on the lookout tower, legs tucked in beneath her.

She looks so small in the moonlight, barely a wisp of a girl.

His bones ache from a long day of marching as he lowers himself to sit beside her, leaning over just enough to nudge her shoulder with his own, waiting for the sweet smile she shoots at him immediately after. It makes something ache behind his breastbone.

When she tentatively rests her head on his shoulder, their sides pressed together, he tries to ignore the sense of rightness that courses through his veins, instead vowing to bottle this moment up and take it with him for the long, bitter cold nights out in the wilderness.

**********************************************

Deep in the Petrazoi, on route to Tsibeya, warmth like Mal has never known washes over him as Alina extends her cupped hands towards him, the glow of her power bright in her palms.

Only a brief respite from the cold could be taken, and quickly he motions for her to snuff out the little ball of light she had summoned. Retreating to a log a few feet away, she is quiet, giving him space.

He'd seen the way she'd been looking at him when she thought he wouldn't notice, like something was missing. She's right. His chest is hollow, the ache in his heart his constant companion ever since Fjerda, since his choices got his friends killed. This now, being with Alina, all his focus narrowed in on finding the stag for her, gives him purpose.

She is luminous even in the pale, barely there moonlight, eyes bright and cheeks full, no longer pale and hollow, the healthiest he's ever seen her. Her time with the Grisha had changed her, for better and for worse, and he realizes he doesn’t know the girl sitting across from him, not really.

He does know this: he will not leave her side.

Continue reading on AO3

#malina fic #mal x alina #grishaverse fanfic #malina fanfic #alina starkov #my writing

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hopskipaway · 2 years

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a malina ficlet for @nonbinarychaoticstupid to celebrate @malinalovebot’s birthday.

FRIDAY, I’M IN LOVE.

SATURDAY (wait).

The first thing Mal registered when he woke was the buzzing of his phone. Picking it up and squinting to read past the harsh light, he cursed his past self for ever agreeing to be gym buddies with Tolya Yul-Bataar.

He liked Tolya, he really did. He also loved going to the gym. Combining the two, it seems, might be more than he can bargain for.

With a groan, he hauls himself out of bed. Quickly throwing together a gym bag and rushing out to the kitchen to prepare a protein shake.

“Malyen Oretsev!” A voice called from the other room. “It is six thirty in the morning on a Saturday. If you don’t shut up, I will not hesitate to kick you out.”

“It’s your fault I'm up this early, Nikolai.” Mal yelled back. “You’re the one who introduced me to Tolya.”

Nikolai’s door swung open and the man stood in the doorway, face petulant and hair a mess.

“I told you, it’s your funeral.”

“I’m okay with going to the gym. It’s just— is he going to be so… preachy? The whole time? He’s already making us go get coffee at some weird shop rather than the Starbucks that’s just across from the gym.”

“Undoubtedly,” Nikolai grins. “Just wait until he starts to bounce his poetry ideas off of you.”

Saints help me, Mal thought.

SUNDAY (always comes too late).

So maybe it wasn’t all bad, but Mal wasn’t going to tell anyone that least of all Tolya.

Which brought him here, outside Wraith’s Cafe for the second day in a row. He still didn’t understand the elaborate gimmick. The baristas were called “Heartrenders” and all the coffees had increasingly confusing names. He didn’t even like coffee all that much.

What he did like, however, was the cute barista— no, Heartrender that served them yesterday.

Walking into the small shop, he scanned behind the counter for any sign of the dark haired girl. She shouldn’t be hard to miss, she had been wearing a bright red “trainee” badge yesterday. Joining the line, his shoulder slumped when he only saw two girls working, neither the girl from yesterday.

“Hi there,” Called the red headed one. “What can I get you?”

“Um,” Mal stuttered. “Surprise me?”

The petite dark haired one laughed from where she was preparing a drink. “I don’t know if you want Nina to give you any surprises.”

“I’ll be nice, Inej. This one looks nice.”

“Hopefully not too nice.”

Nina gasped, suddenly and dramatically. “Of course not! You know I only have eyes for you, my love.”

Mal awkwardly paid for his mystery drink, and stood back to watch the two girls flit around each other in what looked like a very practiced dance.

“Is it just the two of you?” He found himself blurting out without permission from his brain.

“Yes, but we manage, don’t we?” The small one, Inej replies.

“We do,” Nina confirms. “Our staff is small but mighty. It gets busier during the school season, though. If you are looking for a job, follow our Instagram and wait and see.”

She points to a sign declaring @thewraith with a wink.

Mal had no intention of finding a job, but it could come in handy for other things.

(i don’t care if) MONDAY(‘s blue).

It wasn’t creepy.

It wasn’t. So what if he followed the store’s Instagram just to figure out what Barista Girl’s name was.

It worked, either way.

Alina.

Her name was Alina.

Weirdly enough, it felt familiar to him. It felt as though something was ringing in his consciousness when he read it. He tries to think of any Alina’s he might have known from Keramzin, but none come to mind. Not that he remembered a lot of his years as a child anyway. Between losing his biological parents and the orphanage, it wasn’t always the happiest times. He’d have to ask his parents if they have any lists or yearbooks stashed away back home. He wanted to be able to shake this feeling, but he couldn’t.

Alina. Alina. Alina. Alin-

“MAL!” Nikolai shouted from across the couch. “Get your ass off your phone and play FIFA with me.”

Pocketing his phone, he shot Nikolai a dirty look.

“You’re just grumpy, your precious coffee shop is closed today.” Nikolai teased.

“I told you! Tolya was right for once, they just have good coffee.”

“Uh-huh. No other reason, I’m sure.”

It wasn’t creepy!

TUESDAY (grey).

With classes officially started, it seemed reasonable to go get a cup of coffee before his afternoon started.

Sure, the Wraith Cafe was entirely out of his way, and he would have to take two different buses to get there from campus, but it was only logical.

If Alina happened to be working, well it was just a happy coincidence.

Nina was there again, and Mal had requested the same drink she made him last time.

He overheard Nina instruct Alina to make it, and when she was finished she called out to Mal.

“Hi, I hope it’s alright.” Alina blushed. “I’m still new and that was a bit tricky.”

“Hi!” Mal stupidly echoed back, internally wincing at his out of character awkwardness. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

He took a giant sip, just to prove it.

His mouth was quickly overtaken by an indescribable taste. If he had to try and put a name to it, it might have been dirt.

Plastering a smile on his face that he hopes doesn’t look like a grimace, he lets out a weak “It’s great!”

Alina doesn’t seem to believe him, and Mal catches Nina rushing to the back with laughter clear on her face.

“I’m so so so sor—“

Mal cuts her off with a wave of his hands, and notices his phone vibrating.

“Actually, I have to go.” Mal tells her. “Thank you for the coffee, I loved it. Really.”

Stuffing five dollars into the tip jar, Mal rushes out of the building before Alina can say anything else.

and WEDNESDAY (too).

Mal was feeling pretty good about himself.

He didn’t go to the coffee shop, he didn’t check Instagram, he didn’t even think about Alina.

He was out for wings and beers, a Wednesday traditional hailing back from their first year. Nikolai, Tolya and Tamar were huddled around the pub’s little table.

“So, Mal,” Tamar started. “How’s the workouts going? Wanted to kill my brother yet?”

“No, of course not! Only maim him at best.”

“He introduced Mal to his new favourite place.” Nikolai interjected.

“Don’t even start Nik.” Mal warned.

“What’s all this about?” Mal didn’t like the sudden gleam in Tamar’s eyes. Even Tolya looked to be hiding a smile.

“Our boy’s got a little crush on one of the baristas.” Nikolai explained. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like this, it’s quite cute actually.”

“There’s nothing going on!” Mal exclaimed. “If I buy us the next round, will you all can it?”

“Yes of course, I won’t utter one more word.” Nikolai replied solemnly.

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Tamar added.

Giving them one last look, Mal approached the bar and tried to get bartenders attention. Seeing how busy the place was, Mal sits on a stool and opens up his phone and checks Twitter.

“I said I wouldn’t say anything else.” Nikolai yells.

THURSDAY (i don’t care about you).

“Listen to Bert and Ernie.” Nikolai says from over Mal’s shoulder. Mal jerks his phone out of sight of his prying eyes.

“Mikhael and Dubrov,” Mal corrects. “And no.”

“No? What’s the issue? You asked out The Zoya Nazyalensky back in freshman year.”

“Actually, she asked me out.”

“That’s even worse Mal!” Nikolai groans. “The hottest girl on campus asks you out, and you’re still getting all shy over this coffee girl? You said she seemed friendly today.”

“You ask out Zoya and I’ll ask you Alina.”

“No way.” Nikolai replies. “I don’t have a death wish. Let me come with you tomorrow, I can be your wingman.”

“I think I’m confused, do you want me to go out with Alina or not?”

“I’m the best wingman and you know it!”

“Last time you tried, I’m pretty sure the girl thought that you were my boyfriend.”

Nikolai grins. “Well, it’s not my fault we’re both so handsome together.”

“Oh piss off.” Mal warns. “I’ll ask her tomorrow. By myself.”

FRIDAY (i’m in love).

He could do this.

He just had to go in there, ask for a coffee and then give her his number.

Easy. Simple.

Difficult.

“Hi there Alina!” He greeted.

She gave him a funny look, a small smile forming on her face, “How do you know my name.”

“Oh!” Mal floundered. “I heard uh… Inej! Yeah Inej use it the other day.”

Alina turned around to look at Inej, smile only growing larger. Inej merely shrugged and turned back to Nina.

“Well it’s not fair that I don’t know your name.”

“Mal! Malyen, to be specific.” Mal could feel his stomach turning, he’d never felt so nervous in his life.

“Malyen… I used to know a Malyen.” She mused. “Nevermind though, I guess I should ask what you want?”

“Oh yeah of course, let’s see…” Mal trailed off. Not knowing how else to continue the conversation, Mal placed his order and stepped to the side to wait.

Alina kept looking at him while she was making the drink, and Mal could feel his cheeks getting warmer and warmer.

Finally, she walked over drink in hand.

“Well… here you go, Mal.”

“Yeah… I guess, I guess I’ll see you later?” Mal didn’t make a move to leave.

Mal and Alina stared at each other for a moment.

The moment turned into two. Three. Four.

“Oh for Saint’s sake!” Nina yelled, storming over.

“Mal, this is Alina. Alina, this is Mal. You clearly both fancy each other, so Alina why don’t you take your break now and have a real conversation for once.”

“Uh—“

“I…”

“Do I have to do everything for you?” Nina laughed, “What do you do for school? How old are you? Last names? Where are you from?”

Arts. Environmental Science.

Twenty. Twenty-one.

Starkov. Oretsev.

Keramzin. Keramzin.

“Wait… You’re Mal, from Keramzin?” Alina asked.

“Yeah, why… wait, Alina?” Mal nearly drops his coffee. “You moved away when we were young, you got adopted, you…”

“…We’re my best friend.” Alina finishes.

Mal’s jaw dropped and he felt as though he had to physically pick it up from the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Inej and Nina whispering.

Inej kissed Nina on the cheek before walking over. “How about you take the rest of the day off, Alina? I think you have a lot of catching up to do.”