Testament to Time - darklina fanfic

Chapter 3 - Enough

"I'll admit, when I said you would return to me I did not envision a third party."

The room sported two red velvet armchairs and a couch set in front of an ornate fireplace, a painting of the West Ravkan coast hung above the mantle. In front of the fire, hands clasped behind his back, stood The Darkling as he gazed at the work.

It took nearly two days to reach Os Alta. They travelled with care and Alina made frequent stops to check on Mal's wellbeing, her limited experience with driving full-size carriages didn't help the speed of their journey. Finally, when they had arrived at the capital, she was immediately shown inside the palace. She expected she'd have to plead with the servants to allow Mal entry, but they were ready with a stretcher at their arrival, no doubt consequence of the spies Aleksander still kept trailing them.

A still slumbering Mal was taken to a guest room, and she considered whether she should worry about any threats to his life, hidden assassins sent by Aleksander to ensure a faster end to their agreement, but after over fifty years of patience, she found it difficult to believe he would turn back on his word now. She kissed Mal's forehead gently before the servants led her through a series of long corridors and stairwells, to the sitting room she now stood in.

"You must not have been that surprised," she said as a greeting. "You did know we were coming."

He turned to her then. It was expected that he would, like her, remain untouched by time, however, Alina still found herself bewildered by the man who looked as if he had stepped right out of her memories and recurring dreams. He did look paler and there was an edge to his looks that wasn't there before, only visible if you knew where to look, but he seemed weathered in a way as if even immortal heretics could be tired by relentless war. It suited his features and she wasn't sure who she hated more, him for remaining strikingly handsome, or herself for noticing such a thing.

She tried not to feel out of place in her simple earthy dress and emerald green scarf, both torn and stained from years of wear, but he made it difficult as he sported one of his fine black keftas. Alina made a point to keep her face just as guarded and unreadable as his own.

"No, I suppose I'm not," his eyes scanned her head to toe smirking at whatever he found in her.

She tried her hardest to keep from frowning. Not a minute in his presence and he's already managed to unsettle her. "Then you know why I'm here."

"I do." He strode forwards, making his way to where she stood in the centre of the space.

"And?" She stood her ground, refusing to cede even an inch.

His brows narrowed, he stopped just a hand's length away from her, "And what, Alina?" He reached out a hand to fiddle with the torn edges of her scarf. Alina kept her eyes trained on him.

She ground her teeth. "Will you help us?"

He laughed lowly, dropping the garment and walking to the side table by the seating area. His steps were stiff with distaste.

"Forty years since our last meeting and the first thing you do is plead with me to save your husband," he reached for the decanter of kvas that rested over the polished mahogany and poured two glasses. "I'm starting to believe you care very little for me Alina, you wound me."

So he had noted the ring on her hand. She wondered if she should have removed it before coming, if deceiving him to believe their bond was less than it was would have helped her case. He wanted her to play nice, and for Mal, she would fetch and roll over if he asked, so she took a deep breath.

"How are you?" She tried again and his following smirk had her seeing red.

He took both glasses and walked back to where she stood, "I am well, thank you for asking," he handed her one of the glasses and took a sip from his own.