chapter three,    for both of us

𝓐leksander

JOYOUS WASN'T THE WORD HE WOULD USE TO DESCRIBE THE WAY HE WAS FEELING. Relieved was the right word. Liya was back in the Little Palace, back where he knew where she is and for the biggest part, his torment was over. He knew she won't be able to forgive him soon about what has happened and she has made herself clear, but his first priority was her safety.

It was perfect timing for him to show up at the cabin she supposedly resided in, only to find two men sprinting towards the forest. He knew that she was in danger and he took a longer way around them, quickly finding her. He felt joyous then, finding that she was alive even if she was running for her life; that he has found her after all this time.

Aleksander didn't kill those two men, who were after her. He simply knocked them out and Fedyor made sure to deliver them back to the Little Palace grounds so he could get understand once and for all what was going to happen. It made him worry that those men were able to find her quicker than him, but now she was safe.

Genya, on the other hand, wasn't content with her arrival and he could see it. He could understand her need to protect her sister, but she couldn't change it – Liya was back until her departure will be safe. But he wished not to think like that – hopefully, she won't ever leave this place and notice that only here her powers can bloom.

The King was content with her comeback and he asked for a one-to-one audience with her, but the Darkling refused. He knew what the one-to-one audience meant and he won't let for that idiot to grasp Liya in any way. Liya will become one of the most respected Grisha until the King will turn his eyes on another prey.

Liya has refused to train with him and he could understand that, but the distance between the two was making him long for her even more. Even if she was back, she felt as if wasn't here and somewhere far away. He needed her close.

For that reason, he was taking a stroll in the garden. Appearing here wasn't on his daily tasks, but he knew well that she skipped breakfast and dinner sometimes and this evening wasn't an exception.

           This evening was painted on the skies with a soft orange that turned into a soft red – it will be windy tomorrow. The horizon seemed to blur – the forests and the hills merged into one mossy blur where the sun was falling down. Turning his head to the side, surrounded by the colourful roses sat Liya, creating a painting in which she was the muse in a background that didn't even matter.

The red kefta seemed unfamiliar to her – she wasn't wearing it with pride even if it fit her perfectly. She didn't feel like a Grisha and he knew that her arrival here was forced. If her calm expression didn't express the sadness and the anger, he could feel it anyways.

"How are you feeling today?" He asked, watching the way her shoulders moved up, tensing as she probably didn't hear him approaching her. An apology sat on the tip of his tongue but was unsaid.

Not moving her head, she slightly relaxed her shoulders, but she still seemed uncomfortable in his presence: "Baghra taught me how to slow someone's heart without touch."

Even if he was pleased to hear that her power was only growing as he has seen what she can do out of pure rage. It wasn't what he asked. "Your progress is astonishing, Liya. But it's not what I asked."

Shrugging, she replied, "I'm as fine as I can be."

It was foolish of him to think that she will spill her heart out to him after saying that she will never forgive him. He refused to believe so – he won't let himself believe that this couldn't be fixed within time. He didn't know what he had to do or how much time to give – he felt out of place; disoriented.

"Take a walk with me?" he suggested.

"Why are you here?" she winced, furrowing her eyebrows. "I am in the Palace – isn't that what you wanted?"

"I am an obstacle for you, Liya. I wish to ease you from the anger, but I cannot do that if I keep my distance from you."

"Perhaps I need distance from you. Perhaps there must be some obstacles in my way so that I could never forget what happened."

"Do you want me to leave you? Give you your distance?" The burn in his voice was desperate, almost terrified of her answer. If she would say yes – he didn't have the strength inside of him to be apart from her.

She sat silent. Her doe eyes seemed empty, but the small furrow between her eyebrows indicated that she was thinking.

"I don't know," she finally breathed out, her shoulders slumping forwards and eyes closing as she covered her face with her hands, leaning down. Shaking her head, she sat back up, "You messed with my head, Aleksander. I don't know."

His heart loudly skipped a beat as she said his name. His real name. Never in his life has he had such a desperate need to hear his name. When she said it, in an angry or distressed moment like this, it still sounded sweeter than it should. The way she pronounced every syllable of his name, making sure to give them all the same amount of care. The way his name left her lips like a wince, a sign of her confusion that ignited his body on agonising fire. How was he supposed to stay away from her when she was pulling him to her so easily?

Worst of all, he knew she could feel his heart hammering. But could she figure out why?

"Take a walk with me – that's all I ask," he pleaded with a low tone.

She seemed defeated, but she stood up and walked slightly forwards to him and he gently placed his hand on her elbow to let her know where he was he wanted the way she wrapped her hand around his elbow, linking their hands together and he lost his breath.

Nothing left their lips as only the gravel crunched beneath them. Their close proximity made him dizzy – he knew he wanted to say something, but it all faded away from his mind as her body wasn't close enough as he wished. He should be glad that she complied to walk with him, but he was greedy, he was impatient, and he didn't know how to handle the feelings for her that clearly only worsened from the moment he found her.

Much to his pleasure, he took his time looking at her, feeling joyous that she couldn't see him looking like this. He could take as much time as he wanted to admire her and he wasn't going to waste any seconds.

Aleksander admired the way her braids were wrapped around her head into a crown, the auburn colour, slightly red of her hair was shining in the sunset. Mesmerising wouldn't be the word to describe her even though every part of her attracted him. Alluring was the right word—or perhaps not. One word could not describe her.

"Why is your heart beating so fast? Are you unwell?" she asked, slightly turning her head to the side at him and he stopped, watching the way she complied.

"You know why." That's all he needed to say and she was already retracting her hand away from his, but he didn't want to lose her touch and he slightly took her hand and placed it on his chest, watching the way her face twisted with confusion.

"Don't do this to me—no," she shook her head.

"I'm not doing anything," he disagreed.

"You cannot tell me that your heart—," she shook her head, slightly pushing her fingers closer to his kefta and he wished to not have worn it and to feel her hand just a little bit closer to his skin. "Don't mess with my head," she silently pleaded.

The fact that her hand was perfectly hidden underneath his was making him weak. But he needed her to understand that his heart was beating like this for her even if she didn't find joy in that.

"You know why my heart beats like that, Liya," he repeated, voice low and slightly out of breath as he looked at her, releasing his hand from hers, but her hand stayed on his chest, taking his breath away. "Do you think I'm lying?"

"Yes," she almost said without thinking, but then she hesitated, "Perhaps."

"If I could change what I've done..."

"You are not a good person," she shook her head, slipping her hand away from him. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you for the fact that you used my weakness—and yes... I do understand the importance of Zlatan's death, but I should've been informed about your plan and intentions. I should've been aware of the horrors placed upon me."

Aleksander knew all of that and he didn't know how to redeem himself. He wasn't a good person and when she was stating that, it hurt even more because he has hurt her.

"That's why you have my oath that I'll protect you."

A desperate scowl curled on her lips: "I can't allow myself to believe you."

"The assassins that tried to kill you are captured and questioned. Whoever has a grudge against you because of Zlatan will be dealt with. I ask you to trust me enough to give you the freedom you wish to have."

Saints, what was he talking about? He couldn't bear the thought of her leaving again. There was a silence and her gaze seemed to get clouded with worry as she was squeezing her hands together softly. Her right hand moved on her closed kefta as she placed it directly on her heart.

"I don't want to have anything to do with those men," she admitted, her tone tough.

"You don't have to. They won't get near to you ever again," he promised and he will keep it. Whatever will come to her harm's way, it will be eliminated.

"Don't come to see me again, please. I can't allow myself to get lost in another game of yours... I'm here. It should be enough for both of us."

Watching the way she pulled away from him, he was certain – as if it was sealed inside of him – that he won't be able to stay away from her. Especially now, when she was battling with feelings for him.

author's note:

oh, aleksander, your feelings are showing