POV: Olena

It was a calm December night, surprisingly warm despite the breeze that made the branches on the trees dance up and down, casting dappled shadows onto the freshly fallen layer of snow. Karolina was asleep, her angelic face relaxed carelessly as the world of dreams roamed through her head, a world that must have been made beautiful by her childish innocence and imagination. Sonya was still stubbornly fighting against letting that same world take her and pull her into a blissful oblivion. Her head was prompted against my shoulder and her tiny hand was gripping the front of my shirt. Her eyelids would close and open sluggishly, since her battle was a losing one.

I flipped open a new page of the notebook in front of me. I gripped the pen tightly between my fingers as I let its tip wonder over the beginning of the page. I took a deep breath before scribbling December 10th, Baia in the right corner. I always hated that "Dear Diary" part, which is why I shortly proceeded to simply write what I had in mind. It wasn't until I was on my third page that I realized just how much emotions I needed to let out, bleed my soul and heart onto the pages, write down the things I could say to no one, the things no one wanted to hear. My knuckles turned white and I my heartbeat fastened as the parchment hungrily absorbed the ink making it dry quickly. And then it happened, for the first time in my life, for the first time since I've met him. I written down two words, two words that I never even whispered to anyone before, never dreamed of spilling my secret. Randall Ivashkov.

I dropped the pen, watching it roll off the notebook and over the table until it was stopped by a stack of books on its edge. My breathing was heavy, by chest heaving in a way that made Sonya's head sway. My heart was thumping so strongly it was beginning to hurt. I stared down at the name I've written, stared at it until the breeze outside turned into a harsh wind and the moonlight dimmed since dark clouds rolled over the sky.

I stood up harshly, surprised to see my movements didn't wake either of my daughters. I carried Sonya to her bed and laid her down, tucking the covers around her carefully. I dashed back towards the desk and grabbed the notebook, slamming it shut and stashing it under my arm. I picked up my sweater and threw it around my shoulders before I hurried out of the room. As soon as I took my last step down the stairs my mother called out to me: "Lena, where are you headed?"

"Just out for a walk mama", I responded as she appeared from the living room.

"In the middle of the night and dressed like that?", she questioned, rising an eyebrow at me as she glanced down at my giant belly.

"I'll be fine", I reassured her, "I won't be long."

She gave me a strange look, but said nothing else. I was a grown woman, a mother of two, soon three, after all. She couldn't really tell me what I should and what I shouldn't do, though she loved testing those boundaries. I hurried outside, but not before I opened a drawer and snatched a tiny box of matches out of it. When the door closed behind me I instantly regretted I've only brought my sweater with me. A storm was coming, as strange as it might be for such tranquility from earlier this night to turn into havoc so fast right before my eyes. The wind blew my hair into my eyes as I hugged my body and hurried down the hill towards the tree line.

I stopped once my house vanished from sight, ripping the notebook out from underneath my arm before dropping it to the ground, ruining the untouched layer of snow before my feet. I peered at the words that I've written one more time before I took the matchbox out of my pocket. I had to kneel, lighting the match and curling my palm around it to keep it from blowing out. The tiny light kissed the corner of the page and I squinted at the small sparks spreading over the parchment. The fire spread fast, the wind urging it on and I straitened up, watching the paper burn, the name of the man whose children I've given birth to, the man I was addicted to like a drug, slowly disappearing under the grey dust left after the raging flames.

When there was nothing left, when the dust melted into the snow turning it into a light shade of gray, I turned to leave, finally feeling the tears burn my eyes. Lightning struck in the same moment I felt a surge of pain in my abdomen. I bent over gasping, placing my palms on my knees. It lasted briefly, but I knew exactly what it meant so even after it stopped I was paralyzed. I pushed myself to move when another lightning cracked through the sky, making my way back to the house hurriedly. As soon as I pushed the door open somebody rushed towards me. At first I thought it was Yeva, but when I looked up at the person standing before me, I realized I was mistaken.

"Oksana?", I asked, leaning against the door, "What are you doing here?"

"Yeva told me I should be here around midnight. She said she'll be needing help about something", she elaborated while she offered me her hand.

"When did she tell you that?", I breathed out as another wave of pain struck.

This was happening way faster than it ought to. Though I shouldn't be surprised, I was about to give birth to a third child after all. I just hoped it would run as smoothly as it did with Karolina and Sonya.

"This morning", Oksana admitted with a shy smile playing on her lips.

Yeva joined us in that moment and I couldn't help but to fume: "What's the use of having a mother who can predict the future if she never uses her gift to help me?"

"I am using it to help you", she responded calmly while she stirred we along with Oksana towards the stairs, "Now come on child, we have a new life to deliver to this world."

We slowly made it to my room and I instantly glanced towards the beds where I left my daughters, but they were nowhere to be found. Instead, there was a woman there that I've seen around the village, but I've never met. She registered my panicked look straight away and quickly supplied: "Karolina and Sonya are downstairs with my daughter Dina. She'll keep an eye on them until you deliver."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out since a contraction hit me harder. I took a deep breath and dragged myself towards the bed, refusing to let anyone help me climb on it. I wanted to tell both Oksana and the other woman to go home. I didn't need any help at all. I knew what to do and I was used to doing it by myself. My mother did the things I couldn't, but as she put it, I was a stubborn woman, willing to do whatever it took to fight and win my battles. Though, soon I realized I was about to be proven wrong this time around. So very wrong.

I gripped the sheets on the bed in agony, crying out so loud I almost expected the roof to crumble down on us. The contractions have been coming one after the other with incredible intensity for the past twenty agonizing minutes.

"Something is wrong, this shouldn't ahhh-", I cried out as Oksana wiped my forehead with a wet cloth.

"Everything is fine, don't you worry", the woman who eventually introduced herself as Vera voiced, kneeling between my legs before she added, "It's time for you to push now."

"No, I-, I can't", I argued as I focused on the window, watching the sleet shower onto it mercilessly, pieces of ice so big they looked like shards of glass.

"Don't fret", mama ordered taking my hand and gripping it tightly, "This child is a bigger warrior than you and it's coming into this world whether you help it or not."

"Come on Olena, you can do this", Oksana encouraged me, taking my other hand and rubbing it in a way that made me feel warmer and more relaxed despite the fear that was consuming me.

"Push", Vera repeated as I clenched my hands into fists around the poor women's fingers and gritted my teeth doing as I was told.

Everything after that was like a dream, an illusion, it felt surreal, the image blurred, the sounds muffled. The storm didn't matter, the women around me didn't matter, I didn't matter. Only my baby was important. Come on little warrior, I thought as I put all of my strength into pushing, I've been waiting for you.

"One more time", Vera's voice floated towards me through the haze.

I heard a cry erupt and spill through the room. It took me a moment to realize it wasn't coming from me. I looked up at my mother in panic, but her knowing eyes were calm and reassuring. She smiled a small smile and nodded, before she moved aside so Vera could approach me.

"Is she alright?", I asked instinctively, peering up at the bundle she carried.

"He is perfect", she whispered with a cordial smile, approaching me and handing me my baby.

"H-, he?", I stammered as my eyes finally fell upon his face.

I have a boy. My sweet little son. Well in all fairness he wasn't all that little, but I could still wrap him up in my arms just like I held Karolina and Sonya when they first saw the light of the world. He blinked up at me and I gasped, seeing his eyes weren't green either, but a dark chocolate color, almost like mine.

"He's beautiful", Oksana peeped, tipping her head to the side to get a better look, "How will you call him?"

"Dimitri", I breathed out, the name just rolling off my tongue without a second thought.

"It's very accurate", Yeva elaborated, "Follower of Demeter, the mother of earth. His ascendant is in Virgo-."

"I just like the name mama", I cut in through a laugh as Dimitri stretched in my arms, "It has nothing to do with that whole-."

"So many years and you still think things just happen by accident?", she interrupted me now, rising her eyebrow in a challenge, "This boy is special. He was born in a storm and so his life will be filled with them."

"That doesn't sound like a good thing", Oksana mumbled, giving Dimitri a worried look.

"It is, because there is always a rainbow after a storm and his will be the brightest of them all", Yeva announced mysteriously before she added, "We should let my daughter rest. Come, let's go downstairs."

Vera waited for my mother to join her, slipping her arm around my mother's shoulders and heading out, but Oksana lingered. She smiled at me before she offered: "Do you want me to take him?"

"No, I got this", I responded, reaching up to give her hand a squeeze, "Thank you."

She nodded and left, gently closing the door behind her. I rocked Dimitri while his eyes darted up filled with wonder. Already an explorer. I straightened up in the bed and swaddled him tighter as I repeated in a hushed voice: "I got this. We got this."

POV: Dimitri

"Karo, for the last time, be still", mama repeated as she tried to adjust Karolina's dress.

Karolina hated dresses and top of it she was hardly ever immobile. Unlike her Sonya was already fully clothed, wearing her favorite flowery dress, skin color tights and baby pink shoes, sitting patiently next to the mirror and examining her reflection. I chewed the last piece of my meal and silently stood up, taking the plate to the kitchen. Grandmother was washing the dishes with a frown playing on her forehead. She's been in a foul mood all morning. I had no idea why, but then again, I don't think anyone ever knew why my grandmother was in any kind of mood. She was a very mysterious being.

"You should be careful where you're going boy", she warned me without so much as a glance my way as I handed her the empty plate.

I opened my mouth to ask her what she meant by it, but thought better of it. Never question your grandmother, mama always warned, the only thing you'll get by asking her questions is a headache. I strolled out slowly, but as soon as my movements couldn't be monitored by anyone I rushed towards the front door. I felt the fresh air fill my lungs as I took a deep breath and glanced around. Karo and Sonya will be leaving for school later today and I was just itching to get my freedom. The whole yard, the whole house, just for me. It wasn't a small house, but I wouldn't exactly call it big either, especially with my sisters lack of understanding of my need for privacy.

I tumbled down the four steps, gripping the tiny wooden cowboy in my hand. It was my favorite toy. Well, it was my only toy, but even if it wasn't it'd still be my favorite. Mama bought it for me during the last Christmas fair, it was handmade, but it barely cost anything. The man that was selling it was just about to go home when we arrived. We were late as always, mama had just finished with work. The man had already packed up most of his things, the lonely cowboy on the horse remaining as the only toy on the stand. It was carved out to perfection, the details and the colors making it stand out. Karo and Sonya already got their presents. Their dolls were too expensive for our limited budged, but Christmas was the time of the year when mama hardly ever said no to our pleas. My sisters used that as an opportunity to get whatever they wanted, but I always felt too shy to ask for anything. That was until I saw that cowboy. I remember tugging my mother's hand, discreetly pointing towards the object of my desire and peering up at her patiently. She gave me a soft and loving smile, making her way towards the stand without a second thought, with me right on her heels.

"How much for-?"

"I'm done for the day Miss", the man cut in without even looking at her.

"Please, I just want to buy a present for my son", she voiced, leaning over the stand to get his attention.

He twirled around in annoyance, probably intending to brush her off, but stopped abruptly, his face shifting into a strange expression. He gave my mother a strange look, the kind of look that made me think he was admiring her. It also made me think that he knew her from before. His eyes darted down to me and he spoke up in a completely different tone: "Is that your boy?"

"Yes", mama responded in a slightly shaky voice.

"He takes after you I see", he commented as he glanced back up at my mother, "How have you been Lena?"

"Good. I've been good", mama said, blushing barely visibly, "How are things with you Yura?"

"Better than I hopped", he chuckled, while rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "I'm moving soon. Irina found a job in Moscow, so-."

"That's great news, congratulations", mama blurted out before biting her lip.

"Is his father still in the picture?", Yura asked before quickly adding, "If you don't mind me asking?"

"No, he's not around right now", mama mumbled swiftly, switching the subject by asking, "So how much for the toy?"

"Take it", Yura said gesturing towards it, "It's free."

"No, no", she protested, pulling out her wallet from the pocket of her coat, "I can pay for it, I'll pay for it."

"Lena, there is really no need. We've been friends for a long time", he argued, tumbling over the word friends as he snuck a peek at me again.

"Yura, please, I-."

All of a sudden Yeva appeared next to us, followed by Karo and Sonya who were arguing over what we should have for the Christmas feast. Again an exception from the rule since only then did we get to pick what we eat. The rest of the year was pretty much based on the eat what you've been given rule. Yeva took the wallet out of mama's hands and took out a coin of the lowest value.

"Symbolic", was the only thing she said to him before she nudged my sisters back towards the road leading to our home.

Yura watched her go, rolling the coin between his fingers before he shook his head and laughed: "Your mother still scares me to the bone."

"You and me both", mama giggled, taking the cowboy and handing it to me, "Thank you for this."

"Don't mention it", he stressed, rounding the stand and surprising my mother with a tight hug.

When he stepped back, I took a few steps so that I winded up between him and my mother, glaring at him, but politely saying: "Thank you Mister."

"You are welcome young man", he exclaimed, giving me an amused look before he added, "He is a tough fella, isn't he?"

"The toughest", mama confirmed before saying goodbye.

We were already halfway down the street when he called after us. Mama stopped and waited for him to catch up, while grandmother peered over her shoulder to see what was taking us so long. He was out of breath when he came to a halt before us, but he quickly blurted: "You are too good for him Lena, you were always too good for him. I hope you know that."

"Yura-."

"You didn't pick me", he cut in before she could say anything but his name, "You didn't pick me and that's fine. I don't hold grudges and I will always cherish the time we've spent together, but please, for the love of everything, don't ever let him back in."

"Dimka, go join babushka", mama ordered and I did as she asked, but not before I managed to hear one last thing Yura said: "He doesn't deserve you or your beautiful children."

I loved my toy, loved it from the moment I saw it. From the day my mother put it into my hand I never let go of it, I held on to it even when I was sleeping. Its color faded over the months, rubbed off because of the sweat of my hands and surfaces it was dragged across when I played. I think I'll always remember the day when she bought it. Not just because of my attachment to it, but because of the memory of the man who sold it to us. Yura. He was the first person to ever mention my father. The mysterious man we never spoke about. Yura didn't seem to like him and me, well, I just wanted to know him. And I would have never guessed in a million years I'd be carrying around Yura's toy when I finally met him.

Freedom. Yes, that's what I've been seeking when I rushed outside and away from the dress drama in the house. There was one thing, just one thing that always made me feel completely free. Running. I think it's because it felt like I was flying and when you could fly, you could go anywhere. So I spread my arms, holding onto my duster coated friend and I took off, feeling like I was sliding just barely above the ground. I ran in circles around the house until I was too dizzy to stand. I headed towards the front again, watching my feet bend the grass over which they crossed until I hit something. The impact sent me down on my back.

I shook my head to clear my vision and peered up to a tall figure blocking the setting sun. He was a Moroi, dressed in an expensive looking black coat and shoes, with dark brown hair and crystal-like green eyes. He studied me while a small smile played on his lips. It was a kind of smile I've never seen before, one that looked anything but happy or genuine.

"You should be careful where you're going boy", he spoke in English.

"Sorry Sir", I responded in the language of his choice, my Russian accent lacing my words.

"What is your name?", he asked with an amused expression.

"Dimitri."

"Dimitri, where is your mother?", he questioned further, without giving me his name in return for mine.

Before I could respond though, my mother stepped over the threshold like on cue, shouting: "Dim-."

She never finished what she was about to say though, since her eyes landed on the stranger standing next to me and she froze. She stared at him like he was a ghost, an impossible apparition. He, on the other hand, gave her a nonchalant grin and greeted her with: "Olena, long time no see. I was in the neighborhood, thought I'd stop by. Meet your son that you've obviously forgotten to tell me about."

"Randall", she breathed out, coming down the steps to join us, "It's quite a surprise to see you. I wasn't expecting any guests. And as for my son, I didn't think you'd find it important to be notified of his existence."

"Of course I'd find it important my darling", he exclaimed, "He is, after all, my son too, isn't he? That makes him very important."

I blinked up at the man in shock. This was him. This was my father. He looked a lot different than I pictured. Acted differently too. He was strange. Very strange. I just couldn't decide yet whether I liked him or not. My mother studied him as well, like she doubted he was true to his words when he approached her, giving her a quick, but gentle kiss on the cheek before he whispered in a sweet voice: "I missed you so much my beautiful flower. Haven't you missed me at least a little bit?"

She smiled, shyly, turning her head to hide the blush of her cheeks. He snuck an arm around her waist, pulling her closer and pressed his fingers against her chin to make her face him: "Don't hide. I see your face too seldom for it to be hidden when I'm here."

"Well that's your fault", she scolded him, but her resolve was fading.

"Aren't you a sweet talker?", Yeva's voice interrupted the pair and brought me back to the real world, away from the hypnotic scene I was witnessing.

"Mother, don't", mama warned, but stepped back in embarrassment as Yeva leaned against the entrance and gave her a judgmental look.

"Yeva, good to see you", Randall exclaimed with his odd grin returning, obviously, unlike my mother, not a bit ashamed by the attitude my grandmother frowned upon.

"The feeling, sadly, isn't mutual", Yeva scoffed before she fixed me with her eyes and instructed, "Dimka go help your sisters pack for school."

Disobeying was not something I was prone to do, so I hurried inside without a second glance at my parents. It wasn't until both Karo and Sonya abandoned their packing in order to sneak up to the edge of the stairs and take a peek at the man whose blood ran through our veins just as much as our mother's, that I dared to ignore Yeva's requests. I kneeled next to Karo who took my hand and squeezed it lightly, while Sonya wiggled her way under my arm. We huddled together, innocent, curious children, listening to the conversation happening below us and understanding so very little of it.

"- the longest you've been away", mama finished whatever she was saying before we began our eavesdropping.

"The business was tough in the past few years", Randall responded through a yawn.

"I figured that much", mama chuckled nervously, "Since your checks stopped coming."

"Not that there was ever many of them", Yeva mumbled under her breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear, us included.

"Is everything you care about money, old woman?", Randall growled making the three of us twitch.

"No, of course not", mama responded instead of Yeva in the humblest voice I've ever heard her use, "She didn't mean that."

"Don't you tell me what I do and do not mean child", Yeva scolded her, her voiced followed by a sound of feet shuffling.

We all realized too late the steps she took were in our direction. When her eyes fixed on us through the cracks in the railing Sonya and Karo instantly ran back to their room. I, on the other hand, was left frozen in my spot, fixed down by her sharp gaze. She lifted her hand and curled it, leaving only her index finger to beckon me. I reluctantly descended, stopping when I was inches away from her.

"Watch and learn now Dimitri. Watch and learn how a man should never act", she whispered, shoving me towards the living room.

"Hand me that bottle", Randall said to mama as I strolled towards them, uncertain what I should do.

The bottle he was referring to contained a see-through fluid that at first I've mistaken for water, but when I looked up at his face, seeing his cheeks have gained a little color and his eyes shone a bit more, I realized it was alcohol. Yeva once gave me a long lecture about how I should never touch the bottles in the basement that had the sign vodka written on them. Drinking it will make the world spin and your words hard do pronounce, she said. I realized that must have been the reason why his speech slowed compared to earlier and why he had a firm grip on the armrest.

"I think you've had quite enough", Yeva declared, her eyes narrowing as mama reached for the vodka that stood on the table in front of them.

He ignored Yeva, taking the alcohol and pouring it heftily into his glass. He took a strong gulp afterwards, while mama looked back and forth between him and Yeva. He smirked at the glass like he was proud of his accomplishment to empty half of it in one try.

"I said, you've had enough", Yeva almost shouted, her eyes blazing.

I don't think I've ever seen her that angry. Come to think of it, I don't think anger was an emotion that ever found its way into my grandmother's behavior. Randall's eyes were as cold as ice when they shot up at her. He gritted his teeth audible, before he spoke: "Enough is when I say-."

"Randall, please", mama babbled as I dashed towards her, wanting to get out of the way, run from the battlefield forming before me.

His eyes slashed through me like knifes, but he restrained himself from finishing what he has started. It looked like it took him a lot of self-control to do it. I don't know how, but I somehow had a feeling self-control was not something he often exercised.

"Here boy", he spat, pushing the glass and the bottle into my hands in disgruntlement.

His movements surprised me, so I barely had any time to think. I had to drop my toy in order to accept the things he has given to me and while I turned around to place them back on the table, he stood up, causing a harsh noise as he did. It was a crack, the same kind of crack I'd hear when Yeva was breaking planks to add them to the fireplace. Only it was shallower, like the wood that broke was thicker. My cowboy. I twirled in my spot, staring in horror as he lifted his shoe and carelessly kicked at the fragments underneath. The head with its signature hat rolled around the floor before it disappeared under the couch.

"Move", I heard Randall's voice order and I knew he was addressing me, but I couldn't breathe, let alone get my limbs to react, "Is he deaf or insubordinate?"

Mama's fingers wrapped around my arm and she tugged me out of the way and into her embrace. My eyes filled with tears while she softly whispered into my hair: "Don't worry Dimka, we'll get it fixed."

"Isn't he old enough not to need toys?", Randall mocked, realizing what all the fuss was about.

"He is five Randall", mama defended me, standing up as well, a dose of aggravation painting her tone.

"Whatever. I'm leaving", was his response, the response that made her eyes fill with panic and her voice go back to the same humble and quiet one she used earlier, "You could stay. Sonya's first day of school is-."

"I don't have time", he barked, swaying slightly as he picked up his coat and headed unsteadily towards the front door.

Mama ran after him, I heard her pleadings in the hallway even though I couldn't see her. Yeva's sigh got me to look up at her. She slumped onto the armchair and mumbled into her chin: "Poison."

A few minutes after the front door slammed shut, mama reappeared with tears in her eyes, rubbing the back of her hand fiercely against her cheek. Yeva's expression turned rock hard while she watched her own daughter began to sob. Mama gave her an accusatory look while she wailed: "I don't want to hear it mother! As always you are ruining everything."

"He's ruining you", grandmother huffed before mama went to hide in the kitchen.

"But he won't be doing it forever", she added, though mama couldn't hear her anymore.

I don't know why she looked at me when she said her last words. Maybe because I was the only one there or because she knew something I didn't. I felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny of her gaze and the lingering heaviness of her words, so I ducked down and fetched the pieces of my cowboy, carefully cradling them against my chest as I backed away. I glanced at the front door on my way to my room, glanced at it with a dreadful feeling inside of my chest. And just like that the dilemma I had earlier vanished. I was wondering if I liked the strange man who intruded our lives so suddenly and introduced himself as our father. I didn't. I didn't like him at all.


Alright folks, here it is. Way, way, wayyy before it was scheduled, I present to you the story of Dimitri preVA. The reason for this sudden unplanned posting lays in the fact that I've recently become obsessed with this idea and I've written so many parts of the story already that led me to decide it was time to let it see the light of day. It is, as I've already announced during the posting of The Amethyst Heart, essentially a prequel to TAH and the story of how Dimitri and Emilia fell in love. However, it will contain a lot of other mini stories, like parts of Dimitri's childhood and parts of his family's lives, plus it in no way requires of you to read TAH (but you could read it, now or later {to avoid spoiler}, if you'd like, since I'd LOVE that).

I would now like to take a (long) moment to express my thanks publicly to one very special person. This amazing girl, who goes by the user name ohorpheuss around here, is the reason you were all given this story. She has been wonderfully helpful and supportive of my idea, playing a big role in all the touchups and all the small, but very significant details that will make this story what it is. She's sort of played the mixed role of my editor, writing cheerleader, zodiac expert and a bunch of others including being an awesome friend. So, Gaya, thank you for everything you've done and continue doing! You are an amazing person and I'm so lucky to have met you! And for those of you who are not familiar with Gaya's work, stop what you're going like right now (though do come back to see the end of this longass AN later) and go over to her page! Believe me when I tell you this, you'll be thanking me through tears of joy when you experience the symphony of her words through her stories!

Lastly, though it's past time I finished this AN, I'd like to remind you that, as always, every lemony scene during this story will have initial *M* markings in the beginning and the end of it, so you'll be able to skip sexy times if you for some reason feel uncomfortable reading them. And, this part is very IMPORTANT, I'd like to warn you beforehand (though I will do it again when I reach such chapters) that this story will touch on the subjects like domestic violence, depression, self-harm etc. so consider yourself warned since the last thing I want is to trigger anyone who has difficulties with such topics (I'll try to keep them as light as possible though)!

Stopping now, seriously! Hope you enjoyed the chapter and please do tell me your thoughts on it via PM or a review (it means the world to me)! Until the next time,

Love T!