Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

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Nikolai wasn't sure when he first realized he wanted to kiss Alina Starkov. There was no grand fanfare of awareness, no striking understanding filled with overwhelming passion and emotion. No, it was nothing like that. Nor was it a feeling that crept up on him and pounced like a tiger of gripping want. The feeling, he supposed, seeped into him, growing gradually every time he saw her. There was no desperate infatuation, his heart beat seldom quickened around her, and he never lay awake at night, hoping for her lips. It was simply a small feeling, always there, but never nagging.

When he kissed her for the first time, outside of the carriage with an adoring crowd, their noise roaring in his ears, there was little stirring in his chest. A slight flutter, maybe, but Nikolai suspected it was caused by adrenalin, as well as the fear that Alina would assault him when the kiss ended. She did, but the shock and mock anger plastered on her face was well worth it. It was for the people, wasn't it?

The next time the feeling showed its face, he almost did kiss her. He could feel her nervous breath on his cheeks, he was so close. He wasn't sure what compelled him to voice his thoughts so openly with her. Normally, he would let this feeling live inside of him, where it would wither and die. Perhaps it was her dedication to her people, the way he was, or the way she thought so deeply through her decisions, weighing every benefit and doubt. She loved the people of Ravka, almost as much as Nikolai did. Maybe the feeling didn't go that deep. Maybe he was urged to kiss her because of the way her brown hair flowed behind her in the breeze, how her skin glowed in the sunset orange, how her lips turned up like that of a bow. It didn't matter, of course, because he was already a mere three inches from her mouth, there was no turning back. All he had to do was lean in and –

But there it was. A distinct look, a look of defiance, but not against him. The look told him that Alina would kiss him back, but for all of the wrong reasons. He couldn't do that, make her do something she would regret, or want to take back. She didn't deserve that. As she stomped away from him, he attempted to stop her, but she left hurriedly, and he knew it couldn't be helped.

Abandoning her in the climax of the Darkling's assault was a decision he wished he didn't have to make. But his people needed protection, and he was set on keeping his mother and the King safe. He wasn't going to let Vasily's fate happen again.

While he was away from Alina, he busied himself to keep his thoughts from straying too far. Silent moments, however, he couldn't help but let worrying thoughts creep in, plaguing his mind, about whether or not Alina felt betrayed by his supposed absence from the Palace in her time of need. He wished there was a way to contact her, to tell all of them that he was alive and kicking. But putting both sides in jeopardy was not an option.

And then, fate (he had hoped) brought them back together, and it was just like old times. The wit, the bantering, the constant shoving and hitting whenever Nikolai mouthed off or made a snarky remark. This was what he missed. It made it easier, the constant battle strategies and meetings. When he brought Alina to the meteor shower above the Spinning Wheel, the look that played on her features - the look of wonder and awe - caused a bit more than just stirring. He went ahead and implied their marriage for what seemed like the millionth time, but for the first time, Alina didn't seem deeply opposed to the notion. She was smiling, her arm still linked with his.

He wanted to be happy for her. He wanted to be happy with her. She would make a beautiful queen, and he would most certainly make a beautiful king, and together, they would be Ravka's saving grace. A bastard king and the ever-so-powerful Sankta Alina, joined in hands and joined in hearts. He couldn't describe it in words at the time, but it just made sense. The fact that she fought him on every view just made her more perfect for the role.

He wanted to kiss her again, he realized. But he wanted to keep his promise even more. So, he leaned forward, ghosting his lips on hers, giving her time to shove or kick him away. But she didn't.

Being a nichevo'ya was a living nightmare. He had wished, after it was all over, that he had no control over his actions at all, on the slim chance that he would have no recollection of his time spent in the shadows. That he would completely forget the hunger he felt, the pain he caused. He sought out Alina with that darkness in his heart; maybe, just maybe, she could bring light into his life once more.

She still has the ring. He slipped it onto her finger, to show her he knew, but also just to see how her hand would look with it on. She laughed, or sobbed, and Nikolai had never wanted to be human more. She tried to change him, but she couldn't chase the darkness away. The pain and hunger ate away at him. He wanted nothing more than to tear off his wings and pull out his fangs, the agony of it all too much for him to bear. But when Alina embraced him, he felt his need to feed take over, and his claws were piercing her skin, nearly ripping her flesh. All of a sudden he couldn't see where his feet were taking him, and he found himself in front of her, Alina's hands outstretched, ready to fight. Horror washed over him, terrified of what might have happened had she not reached him. He couldn't bear it any longer, being around her, so he flew into the shadows, blending in with his surroundings, leaving Alina tear-streaked and alone.

But being human after was more difficult than he had anticipated. There were scars that would never fade, wounds that would never truly heal. There was still darkness inside of him, lingering. Shadows that might've been there before, he just didn't take the time to notice. Sometimes, doing simple tasks like running a hand through his hair or buttoning his shirt seemed foreign to his hands. He kept the façade up, his usual banter keeping the questions at bay, avoiding any confrontation if he could help it.

The one thing that made it easier was Alina. She was the only one who would ever understand what the Darkling's power felt like, perhaps the only one who would ever truly understand Nikolai. That night, while he sat in front of the fireplace, twirling a bottle of kvas in his hands, he knew he had to ask her again. Just one more time.

"I still need a Queen," he told her.

She stayed silent for a painfully long time. The shadows from the flames flickered across her features. He could hear the crackle from the wood as it burned. Then, she took a deep breath.

"That...that could work."

Nikolai sat up a bit straighter, trying not to show his surprise. "Is that so?" he asked with a steady voice.

Alina chewed her bottom lip. "I think so." She sounded surprised herself.

"What about Mal?"

Alina grimaced. "It...I love Mal. I always have, and there will be a part of me that always will. But..." She shrugged.

"But?"

"Maybe...just because two people love each other doesn't mean they get their happily ever after. It doesn't always mean it will work out."

"Does...does Mal know you feel this way?"

Her voice broke. "It's mutual."

He leaned forward and wiped the tears brimming in her eyes. "I see."

She took a deep breath and shook her head. "I'll live."

"Alina," he tilted her head to face him, cupping her jaw. "I truly am sorry."

"Don't go all sappy on me, Nikolai," she chuckled, wiping the last of her tears away. She smiled. "A Queen you say?"

Nikolai couldn't help but grin. "With a crown of jewels and a heart of gold. That's the idea."

Alina nodded. "That can work." She slipped on the emerald ring and held out her hand to examine it. "This'll do just fine."

He had never wanted to kiss her more.