playing the violin (darkling)
Today was rough. He spent the whole morning and afternoon at the mercy of the Second Army in the Little Palace; watching all the practices for at least half an hour — analyzing all the soldiers by at —, listening to reports from the regents of each Grisha order, making solutions and amends for a few problems... And then, when The Darkling arrived at his private wing at dusk, he had to head to the war room to be informed of Ravka's Army.
He didn't even see his wife and daughter since he left in the morning, the two of them still asleep at the time. Aleksander thought of waking up Katherine to let her know that they wouldn't have lunch together today, but changed his mind when saw that she was drooling on the pillow. The witch was finally having her well-deserved sleep after another exhausting day being a mother.
The General takes another sip of the cup with kvas and vodka, a mixture he had done to put on with the night work, and rests his head on the chair he's seated on. He's so tired. He just wants to silently lay on the bed with his wife and daughter and stay there till tomorrow.
The Darkling looks at the papers on his desk with a grimace. He's spent all day working restless, so if he doesn't take some time for himself, he'll surely go mad.
Aleksander's gaze soon stops at a black box on the bookshelf and the corner of his lips quiver in a small smile. He goes there and picks it up, opening to reveal an old violin, one that was bought a long time ago without anyone's knowledge. When that happened, he used to play it every time he felt uneasy and needed a distraction. Its melody always had an effect on him, relaxing every tense muscle in his body and cleaning his mind from all the frustration he had to tolerate.
The man hasn't played it for years, decades, even.
Therefore, he cleans the instrument and verifies if it's in tune. Then, he puts it on his shoulder and begins to play what comes to his head. When the notes start to echo in the war room, all the weight of being the Grishas leader is soon gone off his shoulders. Right now, he's just a boy showing his love for music.
Not The Darkling, not General Kirigan, not the Black Heretic, but Aleksander Morozova.
The man is so focused on the song that he doesn't hear a baby's wail followed by some movement on the private wing's hallways. Katherine went to check if their daughter was hungry or dirty. Since those were not the cases, she simply picks up the crying little girl from the bassinet and goes with her for a walk in search of her husband.
She frowns at the sound of a song, a sweet melody that seems to be played by a violin, and slowly follows it. The witch is surprised when she notices that it's coming from the war room. Her light green eyes widen in complete shock as soon as she sees The Darkling playing the fiddle. However, that is rapidly replaced by a smile.
Katherine didn't know that her husband knew how to play an instrument, especially one as difficult as a violin. Her heart warms at the soothing view of him with closed eyes while his fingers reproduce whatever's in his mind. Aleksander is feeling the song, not just playing it for pleasure.
The woman though rapidly realizes that she's not the only one enjoying the melody when a baby cooing echoes through the room. She gazes at the little bundle of joy in her arms, the smile increasing as Kaltain blinks her tears away.
The Darkling couldn't hold back a chuckle as he looked at them. His wife's clearly tired, with dark circles under her eyes — now so small that she could easily sleep while standing —, yet she still gathered energy to give him a smile. His daughter, on the other hand, is very much awake. Although the tears have stopped falling from her eyes, they were replaced by confusion. She seems to be battling herself between letting out her frustrations in wailing or following the delicate symphony that hypnotizes her into calm.
Katherine sits on the couch, closing her eyes with a smile while caressing Kaltain's thin black hair. Aleksander continues to play, enjoying the sound of the fiddle as well as the company of his girls. He watches Kaltain slowly losing the fight against sleep and finally going asleep in her mother's lap.
"You calmed her down." The witch whispers when the song stops.
He smiles, eyes not looking away from their daughter. "Seems like she enjoyed it."
She chuckles. "We both did. Since when do you know how to play?"
Aleksander puts the violin on the desk. "A little over two centuries."
"You're marvelous. Didn't go out of the tune for not even a second."
"Oh." He raises an eyebrow at her. "Were you doubting my abilities, milaya?"
"Me? Never, dorogoy."
The man sits by the woman's side and slides an arm on her shoulders. They both admire the baby on her arms, a perfect combination of the two of them. If it wasn't for the mouth and the nose, Kaltain would be an impeccable copy of Aleksander. Although still having grey eyes, Katherine's sure that she'll inherit her father's dark brown irises.
However, The Darkling doesn't care of which color she'll develop as well as he wasn't upset when he found out that his wife had birthed a girl. Kaltain is his little shadow and Katherine's little dandelion, and anything that threatens her happiness shall die.
That was the promise he made when she was born. Aleksander will do everything in his willpower to protect their daughter, including warning all members of the court that anyone who criticizes that the General's firstborn is a girl will have their tongue cut out — something he did a day after she came to the world.
Meanwhile, Ravkan Supernatural community didn't care about the child's sex, yet they were thrilled to know that it was a girl. His wife laughed when Hope told her about the party they had thrown up, since witches indeed prefer women with the excuse that their magic is usually stronger.
The Grishas shared the same opinion as the supernaturals, though, instead of throwing a party to the baby, they made bets. Since the pregnancy was announced, all Grisha orders started to wager on the child's sex. After nine months, the ones who were sure that it was a female jumped and yelled in joy.
"You think she'll learn how to play?" Katherine's sweet voice takes him away from his memories.
"What?"
"An instrument."
He shrugs. "I can teach her the violin when the time comes."
"She can learn the piano with me too."
The General looks at his wife, bewildered. "You know how to play a chordophone?" She nods. "Why don't I know that?"
"Why didn't I know that you can play a fiddle?" She smirks at him.
He rolls his eyes, yet with a small smile on his face, unnoticeable for anyone but Katherine. "I guess we are even then, milaya."
"Yes. Yes, we are, dorogoy."
The witch snuggles herself on her husband's arms, sighing happily as he makes himself comfortable on the couch too. "Tough day?" Her question is barely a whisper, though an effort to stay awake and listen to his stories.
"You have no idea." He lets out a weary sigh. "I don't even want to talk about it."
So the three of them enjoy the comfortable silence in the war room, all with closed eyes and embraced in each other's arms. Aleksander feels the tension finally leaving his entire body and takes a deep breath, satisfied with the amazing sensation of the air filling his lungs and then coming out of his mouth. Although not being certain a few hours ago, he is now relieved that he took some time for himself. If he continued to work, along with not being productive at all — since every note probably wouldn't make more sense due to his tiredness —, he'd be even more exhausted.
He smiles to himself, happy to be able to spend the rest of the night with his family. There are moments that The Darkling thinks he's in a dream that wishes for it to never end. Every time he wakes up with Katherine by his side or picks up Kaltain, he feels complete. After centuries of being alone in the dark, he found company to enjoy the shadows with him.
He has a family now. It's little, but more than enough to fulfill his heart and soul. The two girls of his life are just perfect, and he would never think of changing them for anything else in the world.
Satisfied, the man breathes his wife's vanilla scent and kisses the top of her head. If he could reach his daughter, she'd be receiving one too, but as it's not possible at the moment, he makes a mental note to pick up his little shadow and hug her tightly tomorrow, kissing her small face every time he feels like it.
Yes, work can wait till tomorrow.