So... This is what comes of watching Anastasia and then staying up too late. I remember that FanFic idea I had back when I first watched this movie, and get the crazy idea to write it down.
WARNING: This has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with reality or history. DO NOT ASSOCIATE IT WITH THEM. Please. Because then it's actually decent.
Russia, Middle Of The Night, December, 1916
There would be repercussions for what he was doing, of that he was sure. You didn't exactly assassinate your cousin's advisor and not hear about it. Of course, normally, that advisor wasn't dabbling in Dark Arts. He rebalanced his burden, gritting his teeth and stoping at the edge of the river. Oh, he was so going to get an earful when they found the body, but he couldn't think of what else to do. His cousin would never believe him, and he'd have to reveal his own involvement with magic.
Killing didn't come easy to him, but sometimes, you had to do what you had to do. This was about keeping his family safe. It had been pure luck that he had caught him. The trails of Dark power had been hanging about the palace, and he'd decided to follow them. He'd tracked the source to the underbelly of the building, where he'd found something he'd hoped never to encounter here - a Dark Mage's workshop.
It wasn't that he was afraid of them. A Light Mage in his own right, he had gone head to head with many a Dark wizard. But this was different, so close to his home and his family, to the cousin he knew almost as a brother. In the end, they had faced off in his own workshop, in the crypts beneath his manor. In the end, his power had proved to be enough to subdue the other Mage, but neither poison, nor bullets, nor strikes seemed to end the man. He'd been forced to resort to more creative measures to ensure that the Dark enchanter would not return.
"Hush, Pooka!" He hissed when his small gray dog yipped at his heels as he swung the large bundle off his shoulder. "This had better work..." With that prayer, he shoved it into the icy waters. It fell in with a splash he feared was too loud, but no one came to see what was happening. He stayed for awhile to make sure it sunk, then turned back, wrapping his long coat tighter around him. His dog pranced along beside him, yipping fervently. "Hush." He told it. "Remember our agreement." Immediately, it went placid, lowering its head in shame. He trudged back through the snow. He'd have to appear at his cousin's ball in a few days. He hoped he was capable of putting this incident behind him by then. He rubbed his hands together as he reached his home, pausing in the doorway to look at the stars while allowing the dog to leap into his arms, petting it absentmindedly. He sighed, his breath a white plume in the air. Maybe they wouldn't find the body. Maybe it would be carried to far downstream by the current. Maybe they'd just think he'd abandoned them. He shook his head, opening his door and stepping inside. Maybe they wouldn't even tie him to it.
But whatever possibilities he came up with in his mind, Felix Yusupov could not shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.
