#no plot just vibes
The Falling Crimson Night - Lycorim - A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms [Archive of Our Own]
The high noon sun dapples upon the king through the foliage. Against the white fur of his cloak, against the golden sunlight and the browning autumn leaves, crimson is all Theon sees.
—–
Robb has grown his hair out. This is more significant to Theon than it probably should be.
“Zoya,” Alina said, again in that strange tone. “Look at me.”
“Is that an order?” Zoya asked even as she tilted her chin up to meet Alina’s gaze. Her eyes were almost golden in the sun with darker flecks of bronze.
Alina reached out a hand and Zoya watched, transfixed, as she wrapped a strand of Zoya’s hair around her finger. “It’s not like you listen,” Alina mused. She tugged lightly and Zoya took a halting step towards her. She placed a hand on Alina’s hip to steady herself, not missing the way Alina jolted at her touch.
“I listen when you give me a good order,” Zoya retorted.
a/n: for @yennefer-nazyalensky as a (very late) gift for @malinalovebot bday! (even tho this isn’t malina hehe) i’m so sorry this took so long pls know i love and idolize you loosely inspired by king and delilah from florence
When Alina smiled, people fell at her feet. It was a truth as obvious to Zoya as rain falling towards the earth instead of the sky, night following day, or fire burning her if she got too close. What she didn’t understand was why seeing Alina smile at others made her heart ache.
She shifted awkwardly in her spot at Alina’s shoulder, the clinking of her armor swallowed by the usual whispers and laughter of court. Alina was arbitrating several land disputes between various lords today, and as important as it sounded, it made Zoya want to stab herself. She wished she were Nikolai. Although he was similar in rank to Zoya, Alina hadn’t specifically requested his presence as she had with Zoya. That bastard was probably off flirting with another lady he shouldn’t have been flirting with while Zoya was stuck inside.
At least the view was beautiful. Ravka’s throne room was an impossibly tall cavern of gleaming white marble and gold, high windows letting in golden rays of afternoon sun. Courtiers milled about in the wings and balcony, each one dressed in bright silks so the crowd resembled a field of wildflowers. Zoya was standing beside the throne, Alina sitting serenely upon it with her hands clasped on her lap. She wore a gown of blue silk today, excess fabric pooling at her feet. Gold sparkled around her neck and fingers. Instead of the ornate crowns preferred by other royals, Alina only wore a thin golden circlet in her pale hair. She needed no other reminder of who she was or the power she held.
“That is enough,” Alina said quietly. Zoya’s gaze jumped up, thinking Alina had caught her lost in thought, but her queen’s stern gaze was leveled at one of the kneeling lords before her dais. Her smile had evaporated.
“You are wasting my time with this petty squabble. The borders between your lands were drawn ten years ago, there is no reason to change them now. Follow the mandate of the late king and do not bother me further.”
It was as clear a dismissal as any. The lords wisely did not argue further and bowed and scraped their way out of the throne room.
Alina let out a small sigh, heard only by Zoya. “Thank the Saints they’re gone. I was about to have them arrested just so I could have some peace and quiet.”
Zoya glanced around the room, still teeming with people. “You shouldn’t be saying such things where you can be heard, Your Majesty.”
“And what would they do to me?” Alina asked with a little snort. “You worry too much.”
“And you not enough.”
The two eyed each other, neither one willing to give an inch. It was a dance as familiar to Zoya as battle. In the late afternoon sun, Alina’s eyes were a bright, molten brown only a few shades darker than the crown on her head. When Zoya had left on a campaign against Fjerda years ago, she couldn’t help seeing Alina’s eyes everywhere in the soil of a freshly turned field, the bark of a tree that had sheltered her against the rain, the pelt of a deer that had run through the trees beside them, quick as a rushing river.
Alina looked away first. She gathered her skirts in one hand and stood tall, only a few inches shorter than Zoya. A hush fell over the room.
“I feel tired,” she announced, even though she looked the very picture of health with her rosy cheeks and bright eyes. A mischievous grin curved her lips, and Zoya knew it was meant just for her. “We’ll resume this tomorrow.”
“Your Majesty,” Zoya hissed as she trailed after Alina. After she’d feigned tiredness, she had plunged into the castle’s secret passages with an unspoken invitation for Zoya to follow her. The clinking of her armor echoed down the dusty stone passage along with the rustle of Alina’s skirts against the floor. Zoya winced when she thought about how much dust the hem must have been collecting. Genya was going to kill them later.
“Yes, General?”
“I had assumed you were returning to your chambers. Because you were tired.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Alina made a sharp turn into a branching corridor Zoya hadn’t even known was there. “I’ve barely done anything all day.”
“And where are you going now?” Zoya demanded. “Without any of your guard, no less.”
“You’re with me,” Alina pointed out. “You have a sword and enough spite to best any man.”
“I insist–”
Alina paused and looked over her shoulder with an amused smile. Zoya swallowed hard.
“Are you giving me orders, General?” There was no admonishment in her tone, but Zoya still felt a small jab of embarrassment. She’d stepped out of line.
“Apologies, Your Majesty,” she ground out, training her eyes on Alina’s train.
The blue silk of Alina’s dress moved closer to Zoya’s boots. “Zoya,” Alina said, her voice strange. It wasn’t the tone of a queen, or even a commanding officer, but something more. Something less.
Zoya risked an upward glance. The expression on Alina’s face mirrored Zoya’s own emotions, something between exasperation and frustration. It had always been difficult for them to talk to each other truthfully. Zoya tilted her chin up and looked Alina in the eye. She’d always been a few inches taller than her since they were children, a fact she used to lord over her back when Zoya was nothing but a lowly squire and Alina an orphaned nobody.
They weren’t the same people anymore.
“My queen.”
“Don’t be so…” Alina stopped herself, indecision lurking in her dark eyes. Zoya held her breath. At the last moment, Alina seemed to decide against whatever she wanted to say. She shook her head.
“Let’s go. We’ve been lingering here long enough.” She turned on her heel, clearly intending for Zoya to follow.
And damn her, Zoya always would.
The lake was the last place Zoya expected to end up at. Its mirror-like surface reflected the bright blue sky above, not a cloud in sight. Wildflowers swayed in a gentle breeze. While the castle was only a short distance away, there wasn’t another person in sight.
Zoya and Alina used to come here in the summers when they were children in an effort to beat the heat. She remembered the way they’d leave their dresses on the bank and swim together, their laughter cutting through the air as easily as their faces breaking through the surface to gasp for air.
Alina sat on the bank, a pile of flowers gathered on her skirt. As Zoya watched, she wove the flowers together into the beginnings of a daisy chain, her fingers clumsy. She wondered when was the last time she’d been allowed to be a child.
Alina’s unspoken words in the castle passage still bothered Zoya. Alina rarely held back with her words, much less when they were alone. Zoya didn’t like it.
The sound of water splashing alerted Zoya. She looked up sharply to find Alina wading in the lake, her shoes and half-completed chain of flowers abandoned on the banks.
“Your Majesty—”
“Alina.” An unspoken challenge gleamed in her eyes.
“Alina,” Zoya tried, the name heavy and unfamiliar on her tongue. She hadn’t called her by her given name in years. “Get out of the lake, you’ll catch a chill.”
Always contrary, Alina waded out further. Her skirts floated around her like clouds. With the golden circlet still in her hair, she resembled the tapestries of saints hanging from the walls of the castle. Zoya’s breath caught in her throat.
“Come here,” Alina insisted, color high on her cheeks. Her smile was the sun itself.
Zoya stared for a moment. She supposed if Alina started drowning, it would be easier to save her if she was already in the water. And it was rather hot today. Before she could think further, she unbuckled her armor and left it on the grassy banks of the lake.
The water was blissfully cool against her skin. An involuntary sigh left her lips. They had only gone far enough for the water to reach their chests. Zoya stood an arms length away from Alina, her skirt brushing her knees under the surface. She wanted to move closer, to see how the silvery reflections of the water cast patterns of light across Alina’s face. She clenched her fists at her side.
“Zoya,” Alina said, again in that strange tone. “Look at me.”
“Is that an order?” Zoya asked even as she tilted her chin up to meet Alina’s gaze. Her eyes were almost golden in the sun with darker flecks of bronze.
Alina reached out a hand and Zoya watched, transfixed, as she wrapped a strand of Zoya’s hair around her finger. “It’s not like you listen,” Alina mused. She tugged lightly and Zoya took a halting step towards her. She placed a hand on Alina’s hip to steady herself, not missing the way Alina jolted at her touch.
“I listen when you give me a good order,” Zoya retorted.
Alina paused, her hand abandoning Zoya’s hair and sliding to the side of her neck instead. Her skin was warm against Zoya’s.
“Kiss me,” Alina whispered.
This time, Zoya was all too happy to obey. Kissing Alina felt as sacred as prayer, Alina’s lips soft against hers as they crashed together. Her hands tangled in Alina’s hair and knocked the circlet off her head. It could have sunk to the bottom of the lake for all Zoya cared. Alina’s nails scraped the back of her neck and Zoya couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
It was Alina. It was always Alina.
