Chapter Text
The tower has one window, almost as tall as she is and wide enough to brighten the whole room with light during the day.
It’s one of her favourite places. She likes to watch the world go by and get inspiration for her paintings.
She wonders about the world outside her home sometimes, and wishes she could see it, but she knows it’s impossible. The place beyond the boundaries of her tower is far too dangerous.
“It looks beautiful, though, Sasha. What can be so awful?”
“It’s a terrible place, solnyshka. Full of cruelty and dangers and liars who do not keep their promises.”
“But doesn’t the king punish those who have done wrong?” she asks, thinking of the magnificent castle she can see in the distance on clear days.
Her guardian’s eyes darken, “King Anastas is the worst of them all, solnyshka. A deceiver and a betrayer. No, Alina, the world is not safe for you, but do not worry, for I will always look after you.”
As she looks out, Alina catches sight of her prince and smiles.
She had been terrified the first time she had thrown down her hair and a man who was not her guardian had climbed in through the window, but Mal is so sweet and handsome and gallant.
It’s true, that he prefers to stare at her and talk about himself, but she supposes she cannot expect everyone to be as attentive and interested in her art and the books she’s been reading and the new songs she’s learnt on the harp as her guardian is.
She thinks it might be love.
“This tower is so dull and dark,” Mal bemoans one day, “I can barely see you, even in the daylight.”
And so sure is she about her feelings for Mal, that Alina decides to reveal her gift.
She summons the sun, cupping an orb of light in her hands, smiling widely as she shows her beloved what she can do.
But Mal recoils in horror, and his bad reaction shakes her, the light fading away.
“Witch!” he hisses.
“What do you mean?” she asks, “why would you say that?”
“It’s dark Grisha magic,” he mutters, “it’s forbidden. King Anastas declared it would be treason to use Grisha magic after the Darkling used his shadow magic to infect the infant princess – her hair turned white and then she died.”
“But it’s just light, Mal,” she protests, “what harm could there be?”
“It’s unnatural,” he tells her, “it’s wrong.”
He stands and Alina panics, “where are you going?”
“I know you don’t mean any harm, Alina – you don’t know much at all, in this tower. Anyway, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, and that means I must have you as my bride.”
She thinks he means that as a compliment, but it makes Alina feel horrible.
“You’ll have to be normal, of course,” Mal continues, “no more freaky Grisha magic.”
“I –”
“I’ll come back the same time tomorrow, and I’ll bring rope so that we can climb down from this dreary place and go to my castle.”
He doesn’t wait for her answer, just climbs out of the window and down the side of the tower, careless and rough when tugging on the long, silky strands of her bone-white hair that her guardian so lovingly tends to every evening.
Alina sits and weeps.
Her guardian is gentle when he uses her hair to climb up to her tower. He scarcely needs the help, truth be told.
She doesn’t notice him until his shadows curl around her and she looks up to see him frowning, dark eyes concerned.
“Why are you crying, solnyshka?”
For a month now, Alina has kept Mal’s visits secret, but it all comes spilling out now – the love that turned out to be false and the man who thought her a freakish monster.
“Oh, solnyshka,” he pulls her into his warm embrace, lips pressing gentle kisses to her forehead and cheeks, “my poor, sweet girl. You have been most cruelly deceived.”
“I thought he loved me.”
“Otkazat’sya are not like you and I, solnyshka. They cannot understand us.”
“I just … I just wanted to see the world.”
“And so you shall, if you are patient a little longer.”
“But I thought the world was dangerous.”
“It is, but plans are in motion to take back this land that was once ours, solnyshka. And then you shall not just visit the castle you so admire, but live in it and rule from it.”
Her eyes widen, “truly, Sasha?”
“Of course. I’ll make all your dreams come true, solnyshka.”
“Alina, Alina, let down your hair.”
Mal grumbles impatiently as he waits.
He’s glad they’ll finally be leaving today. He’s known ever since he first spotted her that he had to have the beautiful girl in the tower, but it has certainly been a frustrating month getting her to trust him enough that she agrees to leave.
He just hopes she doesn’t fuss about that freaky Grisha magic. He’s sure she can just suppress it and forget about it, and hopefully that means none of their future children will be afflicted.
Alina’s long braid of hair drops down and he begins to climb.
Normally, she’s chattering away to him, talking about paintings and books he really doesn’t care about. She’s quiet today, though, and he wonders if perhaps she’s learnt that a woman ought to be seen and not heard.
When he reaches the window, however, it’s not Alina’s pretty face that greets him.
She is on the opposite side of the room, humming an Old Ravkan tune as she paints a picture of a foreboding, dark-haired man.
The same man currently grinning maliciously at him.
“Goodbye, Malyen,” is all he says.
And then, he wrenches Mal’s hands away from Alina’s long braid and gives him one hard shove.
It’s a long, dangerous drop. It might kill a man, if he falls wrong.
(and if he does survive, the shadows will get him soon enough).