Astrid Sisko is not a Grisha.
She's not a toy for Kings to use.
She's not a pawn for a General's game.
She's not a remedy for a Prince's political headaches.
She's a warrior. A killer.
She's not to be underestimated.
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OC x Aleksander...
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I recognized the field I was in. I was back where I had met my mother, when I'd almost died back at the Little Palace.
"Mum!" I shouted immediately, whirling around, hope filling me. I wanted to see my mother. "Mum!"
"In here, darling." I turned around, and gasped in shock.
I was no longer in the field. I was in the woods, facing my old house. I took off running, remembering the way I would run home from hiding in the trees when Mother called me in for dinner.
Come home darling!
Coming Mummy!
"I'm coming." I breathed, running across the dirt. "I'm coming!" I shouted, jumping over the cobblestones that my father had laid down as our front walkway, before he died. I slammed into the front door, throwing it open. "I'm here!" I shouted, coming to a stop and looking around the little cottage wildly. "I'm here!" I called, my hope dying. There was no one here. "Mum?" I called, my voice breaking. "Mum!" Tears welled up in my eyes.
I wanted to see my mother.
"Why are you crying, starlight?" I whirled around to see my mother standing behind me in her old dress. The blue material complimented her light tan, her hazel eyes bright with unconditional love. Her lopsided smile reminded me of our lives before I watched her die.
I took in her round face, her pink lips, and her dark brown hair. I observed her in seconds before I threw myself across the room, launching into her waiting arms.
"Mum!" I sobbed, burying my face into the side of her neck. She still smelled like hazelnuts and ginger.
"Hello starlight." Mother greeted me with a gentle smile. She pulled out of the hug, cupping my cheek in her hands and observing me.
"Am I dead?" I asked, sniffling. She laughed. Her laugh was always so musical.
"No, starlight." She said, shaking her head. "You're becoming who you were always meant to be. Remember my lessons. Trust yourself." She said. I took a step back, running my hands through my black hair, confused and overwhelmed.
"How can I?" I demanded emotionally, my voice breaking. "I was so wrong before-" A
"No." My Mother interrupted, shaking her head and grabbing my shoulders gently, staring at me with firm hazel eyes. "You weren't. There was something in him worth saving. In that moment, he was exactly who you thought he was. And those warning bells that went off in your head were there, you just didn't listen." She explained, and then she smiled gently. "Trust yourself. Trust him."
She turned me around, and touched my chin with two fingers, turning my gaze to the window. In the glass reflection, I could see myself. My eyes. The image flickered between the younger version of me I remembered seeing, and the woman I was now. My Mother stood behind me, her hands on my shoulders, resting the side of her face against my head in a loving manner.