Will I dream again tonight?
Russia lay awake in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was utterly weary, to be sure, but he could not sleep... no, he did not want to sleep. If I sleep, I may dream again, he thought. And I do not want to dream. At least, I do not want to dream that...
He could feel his eyelids growing heavier by the minute and he fought to keep them open. I need to stay awake...
I need to think of something else...
Having Natalya show up might actually be a welcome distraction...
I'd rather her chase me with her knife again than dream of that...
Despite the speed of Russia's thoughts, he found sleep beginning to wash over him like a giant, heavy wave. And, when he slept, he dreamed...
A grand ballroom, and him in his finest military uniform. A string ensemble and a polished dance floor. People laughing, chatting, dancing and having a wonderful time. And last, but certainly not least, a lovely young girl of about eighteen with a sweet face and long brown hair...
"You do know, Vanya, that it's improper for a young lady to ask a young man to dance, don't you?" She told him teasingly, her eyes twinkling and her cheeks pink.
"Well, then," he replied, a flush spreading across his own pale cheeks, "may I have this dance?" She nodded her assent and he led her onto the floor proudly. As they danced, he noticed a bearded man scowling at him from the corner. You can't keep us apart anymore, old man, he thought triumphantly...
When the dance was over, he led her down the hallway and onto the open balcony, where the stars shone brilliantly overhead. She sighed happily and leaned into him as he put his arms around her. "This is so beautiful," she said contentedly. She flicked a teasing glance at him and then added, "The stars too."
Drawing the deep breath, he said hesitantly, "I have... something... to ask you."
She gasped. "Vanya, what is it?"
He turned her around to face him and knelt in front of her. "I love you so much." She burst into tears as he produced a beautiful little ring from his pocket and began, "Will you..."
His question was interrupted by a group of armed men storming the room. One of them grabbed the girl's arm roughly and shouted, "You're coming with us!"
"Vanya, help me!" she cried in terror. Galvanized by his sweetheart's frightened tone, he rushed forward, knocking the men down left and right. He had just gotten to her to free her from the other man's grasp when something heavy hit him solidly in the back of the head, sending him sprawling to the floor. As he scrambled to regain his feet, another blow to the back of his head put him down again.
"VANYA! NOOOOO!" the girl screamed as he tried to rise again. This time, another blow, harder than the others, connected and he saw millions of tiny lights as he fought for consciousness...
Then without warning, a loud rumbling began, along with a violent quaking of the palace. In his semi-conscious state, he could feel things falling around him. Then, a loud crack, and it felt as though he were falling... and through it all, he heard her voice, calling...
"Vanya... Vanya..."
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Russia fell out of bed. Sunlight was peeking through a crack in the heavy drapes covering the windows of his bedroom. He groaned and picked himself up from the floor, rubbing his forehead. Not that dream again... it just won't leave me. The worst part was not knowing where she was buried...
He shuffled down the hall to the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee. Pouring a little vodka into the cup, he took a sip... someone knocked at the door. He ignored the knock, not really wanting to see anyone at the moment. There was another knock, then after a pause, another. He growled a little, muttering, "Kolkolkol..." to himself and went to the front door, throwing it open rather forcefully...
The woman on the other side of the door jumped.