Darklina Oneshots

I'd Never Let You Be Alone - Nikolai's POV.

Art Credit: saintprivateer on Tumblr. 

This is Nikolai's POV of the previous one-shot because I'm somehow found writing motivation and I'll be dammed if I am going to waste it. Also, I've never seen this be done before (feel free to correct me in the comments if I am wrong) but I thought it would be interesting to see Nikolai's thoughts pre-King of Scars. 

Also - I had an idea for a Zoyalai version of this but I would rather have Kaz rip out my eyeball (not that it wouldn't be an honour) then kill Nikolai or Zoya off. So, I shall hint at it instead. 

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I feel the dark leave me as I lunge towards the light. As much as it pains me, it reminds me of my human self. Of freedom. Of hope. Of her. Alina.
The only thing I could recognise as the monster he made me.
I cry out as the wings dissolve from my back, and I plummet towards the dull sands.
A Squaller, Zoya, runs towards me. Breaking my fall with an updraft.
For a moment, I cannot move. I am frozen in pain.

Eventually I gather my strength and Zoya helps me into a sitting position.
I flash her a grateful smile before my gaze fixes on Alina, slumped between Oretsev and The Darkling. Neither Mal nor the Darkling move. In my peripheral vision, I see the Darkling's Grisha and his Oprichniks retreat, bursts of light coming from them uncontrollably. Alina's light.

No light comes from her. Did she give it up, to save us? To free me. She sacrificed her best friend and her light, so that Ravka could heal. A true saint.

I feel a swell of pride. No longer is she the little girl who ran from her villain.

She seems to panic as she bolts upright, clawing desperately at the Darkling. Her sleeve is rolled back. Something, I can't make out what is on her arm. Her soulmates' last words. I wonder what they are. I wonder who they are. 

The Soldat Sol cheers, forming lines, shining the gifted light together. My eyes remain fixed on Alina. The woman I love. She cries out for a healer, but he is already gone.

I didn't know the Darkling meant so much to her. It hurts, after everything he did. But I let her grieve. Their bond must have been stronger than I thought. She leans forward, about to place her head in the crook of his neck when she pauses.

She pulls the blade from his chest. It took a moment for me to realise what she was going to do. I cry out, trying to stop her.

I am too slow. She plunges the blade deep into her chest. Horror fills me as I realise, I am going to lose her. My mother. Vasily. Dominik. I can't lose her too.

I try to move, to go to her. But, I am stopped by sharp pains in my bones. She tucks herself into his arms and places a hand on his chest. No. NO.

Tolya and Tamar rush over to her, but they are too late. She is gone.

I fight against the pain as I rush over to her.  Agony in every movement.

I reach for her hand. It is still warm. It was placed over his heart, like she was laying claim to it. Her other linked with his. They hold each other as if they are the only things left.

Grief overwhelms me. He has her, even in death. Ravka has lost its sun. I have lost the love of my life.

I peer down at her arm. No words are there, only a mark. The sun in eclipse. Her soulmate symbol. His symbol.  

A small part of me hoped that she might have been my soulmate, however bleak it was. I grimace as I notice the state that my hands are in. Scarred. Dark. Monstrous.

Tears roll down my cheeks as people begin to gather around us. To say their goodbyes to their saint. The woman who sacrificed so much and finally went after what she wanted. More tears escape knowing that its not me.

I let go of her hand as I roll back my own sleeve. I make out the words, look at them for a second longer before I roll my sleeve back down. At least they're not dead. I think to myself.

I look back at Alina. She seems peaceful.

"Thank you, Alina". I say.

Cheers of 'Sankta!' and cries of joy and sadness mix into the background. 

Around me, Alina's friends kneel beside her, tears filling their eyes as they pay their respects to their friend. I turn my gaze to Zoya. The rare sight of tears in her deep blue eyes come as a shock. I knew that her and Alina's relationship was rocky at best because of their rivalry with Oretsev.

She meets my gaze, and one side of her lips curl upwards. A rare mark of sympathy. My lips curl upwards in response. Her eyes trail down to my arm and she freezes slightly when she reads the words. She regains her composure quickly before looking at Alina. Hmm, odd. 

Tolya places a large hand on my shoulder. He flashes me a smile before reaching out to remove the blade and heal Alina's wound. We will bury her. Give her the send off worthy of a saint. Of our saint. 

Alina Starkov. Soldier. Summoner. Saint.