Work Text:
Once upon a time there lived an old woman who cared for young orphans in a small village just outside of Balakirev.
The old woman experienced much in her long life, but nothing was as troubling as the disappearance of Alina Starkov.
Ana Kuya always warned Alina Starkov to never wander into the woods alone in the dark. Khitkii, spirits that might take any form, preyed upon the innocent. But one winter evening when a fire tore through the village, Alina fled into the woods never to be seen again.
In the years since, Ana Kuya would wander to the edge of the woods. Sometimes she swore she heard whispering in the rustling of the leaves, or saw the silhouette of a familiar young woman dancing around as sunlight glimmered through the canopy of trees. But Ana Kuya never risked entering, and for as long as she lived she warned every villager that something wicked lived in the woods. Beware of the khitkii.
***
The great fire happened on a cold winter evening during the New Year Festival.
At the village dance, unsuspecting revelers drank plum brandy, sang lively songs, and twirled around in joy.
Alina, a shy young woman, looked on with a smile. She’d just spun around dancing with her dear friend Alexi and was catching her breath when cries for help abruptly halted the merriment. There was a fire in the very same barn where the dancers were, and homes were quickly catching on fire.
The village well was proving insufficient, partially frozen. Alina grabbed a few discarded old pails and turned to run to the nearby stream in the woods, desperate to help. For a moment she hesitated. ‘Never wander into the woods alone in the dark,’ Ana Kuya would always say. But everyone in the village was running around in a frenzy and the desperate cries of children rang out through the air. People were trapped in the barn. Alina was determined to help douse the fire, so despite years of Ana Kuya’s warnings, she entered the woods alone.
The woods were dark and lonely. And she quickly lost her way. She no longer saw the smoke from the fire or starry sky above. If anything it felt as if the shadows were closing in on her, suffocating her. She grew up in these lands and ventured into these woods countless times without losing her way. But she never entered alone in the dark.
Alina closed her eyes and took a deep breath, listening for the sound of water flowing from the stream or the cries for help in the village. She waited in the unnatural silence until a voice broke through her concentration, startling her.
“And who might you be?” A handsome stranger emerged from the shadows. He looked like a man, but his mannerisms and gait carried an air of the preternatural.
Alina was stunned, unable to form words.
“Come now. Tell me. What brings you into my woods?” Amused eyes glimmering, his sharp features and raven black hair drew her attention.
“Fire,” she whispered. “My home is on fire.”
She shivered hard enough that she dropped the pails, whether from cold or fear she couldn’t tell.
“Ah, yes. The fire that threatens my woods.” The stranger turned his head and Alina followed his gaze, her own mouth dropping open in shock. A curtain of shadows parted to her right, and she could see that she had not ventured far into the woods, for the fire continued to rage on nearby.
“May I pass?” she asked. “To get water from the stream.”
“Milaya,” he cooed. “Of course.”
She sighed in relief and took a step around him.
“For a price,” he added.
She stopped in her tracks, heart pounding furiously.
“A price?” She echoed back.
“Everything comes at a price,” he whispered into her ear. “I can help put a stopper to the fire that will soon take the lives of all those poor souls trapped in the barn.”
“Name your price,” she spat.
“Your shadow,” he replied, grinning.
“M–my shadow?” She’d never heard of such magic or tales of such bargains.
How much did one need their shadow? A shadow in exchange for all the lives trapped in the burning village seemed fair enough.
He waited, patient and unperturbed by the cries of the people.
“And who will I be entrusting my shadow to?” She knew this was the spirit Ana Kuya always warned her about. But did he have a name?
“I have had many names,” he told her. “But you may call me the Darkling.”
“Take it,” she snarled, defiant.
“Excellent.” He beckoned her to stand before him.
His eyes gleamed like embers. A pool of unknown depths. He reached out, an arms length away from her. Shadows all around them swirled and bent to his will.
Darkness. Everything around her was darkness and Alina choked on it. The smokey taste of the shadows filled her lungs and lingered on her tongue. She fell to her knees, paralyzed by the pain.
Alina screamed as the Darkling ripped a dark orb from her heart to claim her shadow. And with it, a part of her soul.
For a shadow was nothing without the object that cast it. And just as the Darkling could control shadows, he now controlled Alina.
He commanded her to rise. To her horror, the compulsion to obey overtook all her senses.
“The village is safe,” he told her. “And now you are mine.”
He pressed a kiss to her lips and sealed her fate. As darkness engulfed her, she felt a modicum of relief that her loved ones would survive. She did not know that at that very moment he was whisking her away from everything she’d ever known.
Alina struggled not to regret her bargain with the Darkling that winter evening in the woods. His shadows were everywhere. When he called, her shadow answered.
Years passed and Alina did his bidding. It was only after a decade that she noticed she was no longer aging.
Half a century passed in anger. She didn’t understand what she’d become. She made a home for herself in the woods, far from most villages. Often she found children who lost their way. And she always ensured they were led safely out of the woods before dark, lest the Darkling come out to greet them.
There were times when Alina was so lonely that she welcomed the Darkling into her bed. Their couplings were always rough and drew her into a maelstrom of lust and torment.
It never ceased to astonish her how addicting it felt — the moment he entered her, the way his length glided within her, how his every thrust shattered her control, and how his touch unlocked something primal within her.
Eventually she grew to tolerate his company. She lived comfortably in his shadows and found as time passed she did not mind being at his side.
At the dawn of a New Year, in the comfort of their home, the Darkling asked Alina to be his wife.
Her eyes met his over the steam of her tea.
“Yes,” Alina smiled. “For a price.”