Thank you Olympics for inspiration (despite the fact that the Winter Olympics was finished way back in 2014). Lol, I started this in 2014 and now it's 2017! I can't believe all the time that has passed in completing this!
Warning: I also have a very limited knowledge of skating in general. If I mess up, please ignore it.
All Russian words or phrases are from Google. If you have any complaints, take it up with them.
I don't own the characters. I attach strings to them and shout, "Dance marionettes! Dance for my pleasure!"
She was fire on the ice.
She was passion incarnated.
She had soul and drive to go the distance, beyond what anyone else expected or thought of her.
She was temptation made just for him.
She was his fatal sin, his everything.
She was the one thing he could not have.
Dimitri had watched a lot of her performances, and every single time she was dazzling and strong. She was beautiful, patent with her steps, and nearly flawless on the ice.
Her name was Rosemarie Hathaway.
"She is very good." Head coach Kirova admitted when she first met him. "She has won so many competitions at such a young age and a few days ago, a representative from the Olympics told me that she is one of the most eligible women in this sport for a spot on the Figure Skating Olympics team. She is home schooled so she can focus on her skating. I was told that she would have quit school completely had her parents had not objected."
He nodded, very impressed. He had met few skaters who had that kind of drive. "So why do you need me?"
The older woman sighed and leaned back in her chair. "She has had a few...incidents with coaches and now she feels that she doesn't need any coaching. We need the best, so we called you."
"With all due respect, maybe she doesn't need any coaching?" He was reluctant to take up a brat who thought she was above any coaching, no matter how damn good she was. Besides, there were plenty of good skaters out there who couldn't afford coaches and they made due with what they had.
Kirova frowned. "I may think she is one of the best skaters out there, but that does not mean I think she is so good that she does not need a coach." She clasped her hands together and leaned forward. "She will never admit this, but she does need you to make her a better skater."
He sat in silence for a few moments, then, "Let me see how she skates."
The first thing he heard was shouting. Coach Kirova groaned and motioned for him to follow her.
The first thing he saw was a beautiful girl who was obviously distressed, if her flushed face and angry expression was anything to go by.
"You are such an idiot, Alto!" She shouted at the man opposite of her. "Of course that was off! The jump was way too low."
Dimitri was taken aback. A skater, admitting she was wrong to a coach opposite of her opinion? In all his years, both as a student and as a coach, he had never seen anything like this.
The man, whose fists were clenched at his side, growled out, "Your jump was just fine, Hathaway! Now give me a triple toe-loop!"
"Not until you tell me what was wrong with my jump! Just fine isn't going to get me a medal!"
"Hathaway!" Kirova barked. "Enough." She motioned for the man to leave. "I have her covered, Stan. Go get a coffee." Stan looked relieved for the Head Coach's appearance and did as he was told. She turned to the skater. "Hathaway, I would like for you to meet Dimitri Belikov. He will be your new instructor. Dimitri, this is Rosemarie Hathaway." The girl, Rosemarie, rolled her eyes and suddenly backed away from her position at the wall. "Hathaway–" Dimitri signaled for her to stop, never taking his eyes off of the girl.
Rosemarie sighed to herself, skated around a bit, and then jumped.
He would never admit this to her, but the very moment that he saw that triple axle, Dimitri knew that nothing would ever be the same for him. Her jump was full of life and obvious power, yet there was a flow to her jump. A ferocity not commonly found in girls her age. Her height was precise, her spins perfect in rotation.
Even so, with all those redeemable qualities, there was one flaw only oblivious to the untrained eye.
She slid to a stop and looked at Dimitri expectantly. "Well? Was that jump perfect too?"
The man crossed his arms. "If I tell you, will you treat me with respect?"
She raised a defiant brow. "If you guess correctly. And start calling me Rose. Rosemarie sounds like someone who has lived three times as long as I have."
"Your landing was off. Your knee was too locked in, so loosen it a bit. Your ankle was twisted and you almost stumbled. You need to be less tense when you land or you'll end up breaking something." He walked down to the edge of the rink, ignoring the shocked looks from both the Head Coach and the skater. "My name is Dimitri Belikov. I hope to take you to the Olympics next year, Miss Hathaway."
"Again!" Dimitri barked. He ignored the scathing look Rose sent him. She may have been good but Kirova was right when she said Rosemarie needed a coach. She was too wild in her practices and too unwilling to take her exercises on the ice seriously. "Give me that spin again. Count to five in your head and then lower your leg on release."
She took another deep breath and spun in the Beilman position. Her spinning was fast enough, but she was releasing wrong. Instead of lowering her leg, she spun one more time and then kicked the air, throwing her off balance. She insisted it was the way she had been taught, but as soon as he mentioned she was doing it wrong she tried as hard as she could to make herself better.
Contrary to what Kirova complained about her, Dimitri actually liked working with Rose. Once he proved that he knew what he was talking about, she listened to him and what he said. She followed his instructions to a T. She was always looking for ways to improve, contrary to other skaters he had worked with, who were always looking for compliments and nothing else. Rose could take criticism. In fact, it seemed that she thrived on it. She was self-disciplining and had a tongue so sharp she could cut someone. By the time he woke up in the morning, she was already doing stretching exercises. By the time he got there she was already on the ice, waiting for him to teach her something else.
But there was something off about her. No matter when he saw her she was always pale, paler than someone of her almond colored skin should be.
She never seemed to want to leave the rink.
He gestured for Rose to get off the ice one day. "You need a day off. The competition is in a month and you need to rest for more than eight hours."
She looked shocked. "What I need is to practice my Spread Eagle, Belikov. If I can't do it perfectly then there is no way I'm going to make it to the Olympics."
He tried to reason with her. "It has been six months since I've started training with you, Rose, and not once have I ever seen you take a day off."
"I don't need a day off. I need to practice."
Dimitri sighed. He was going to need a lot of headache medicine after this, he could already tell. "Rose, I'm leaving and as your coach, I order you to do the same."
She suddenly shot him a look of loathing. "Screw you, Belikov." She growled. "This is why I hate coaches. You don't care about anyone else. All you care about is what success you can get for yourself."
Her words stabbed and confused him. Before he could reply she stormed back towards the ice, leaving him staring after her.
"That girl is going to be the death of me, or any other coach after me." Were the first words out of Dimitri's mouth when he met Kirova a few hours later. "I do not understand her problem with me, but if her attitude continues, she isn't going anywhere near Sochi this year."
It wasn't obvious but the older woman's pen stopped for half a second before being set down. "What happened?"
"She refuses to take a day off, and then accuses me of only thinking about myself!" He raged, his Russian accent showing through in his anger. "I've never met anyone so...so–"
"Aggravating?"
"Yes!" He sighed, collapsing into a chair. "What happened to make her like this?"
Kirova smoothly got out of her chair and went to stand by the only window in her office; the one that gave her a clear view of the rink and the skater on it. "You must understand that she was not always like this. She used to be less hard on herself, less intense." She spoke with a look in her eye. A look that told him of happier times. "She had friends coming by to watch her practice. She would not get up at nearly four in the morning just to train and she would leave earlier than two seconds before the rink closed."
She turned back to her desk and took a picture from a drawer before handing it to Dimitri. In the picture was Rose and another man. To his surprise, Rose looked younger, more like the carefree girl she should have been. The man next to her was pale, had green eyes and messy brown hair. He was obviously taller than Rose, but he had his arms around her so that she was hoisted up to his waist. Dimitri gave the picture back to Kirova, who quickly put it back in her drawer and slammed it shut. "Who is the man?"
Kirova grimaced. "His name is Adrian Ivashkov and he was Rose's first coach."
"What happened?"
This time Kirova full out frowned. "Rose would not tell me the details, but from the police report–"
"A police report?" She gave him a look and he backed away. "Sorry."
"From the police report Adrian was an alcoholic. Apparently he was so drunk that when he was drunk, no one could tell his real personality from his drunk one."
"Shall I assume Rose couldn't tell the difference either?"
"Rose did not know. Or if she did she did not say anything to me, but that is very unlikely." Kirova squeezed her eyes shut. "When the first pre-Olympic competition came around Rose was barely fifteen. Adrian came to the competition drunk out of his mind. He stumbled onto the ice in front of a crowd. From the looks of it he was trying to do Rose's routine." She let out a humorless chuckle. "It would have been a funny sight to see had the situation been different. They had to drag him off the ice and escort him off the premises. Rose was mortified. You know that when a skater does something stupid it reflects on the coach? This time, it was the complete opposite. When Rose got on that ice and won a silver she had to do it and endure the taunts from everyone, even her fellow skaters. Later someone started a rumor that Rose was sleeping with one of the judges to get the position on the team. It was a big scandal and while she did quit the team later, she almost dropped out of skating completely. Do you know who stopped her?"
"You?"
Kirova smiled bitterly. "Have you ever heard of Vasilisa Dragomir?"
"Russia's princess?"
"They call her Russia's princess." She corrected him. "She is one of the top figure skaters in the world. Her father is an influential diplomat in the Russian government, so the media brands her as a princess. She was the one who stopped the tabloids from printing more of that scandal. She made trips to the US just to encourage Rose to keep skating. It was all over the news." He knows why he had never heard about this. He had been in Siberia for the last five years, concentrating on his family. Current news was hard to come by in the frozen tundras. "Now they are the best of friends as well as friendly rivals. I know they Skype each other when they can." She looked at the window again and her expression softened. "Rose is capable of many great things, but this has not been an easy road for her. She never takes a break because she thinks that she has something to prove. Not to herself, but to the rest of the world. I see what the media prints about her all the time and it enrages me. No matter what problems I have with her, no one deserves to have that kind of gossip spread about you."
"So her problem with me–"
"Her problem with most coaches, I assure you. You are not the first who has come barging into my office to demand what is wrong with Rose. Everyone else gave up. We have tried to find matches for Rose, but none have ever come into my office so late." She smiled. "You have not given up on her yet. That means you are the perfect coach for her."
As expected he found her on the ice. He did not call out to her immediately, content to watch her work on her doughnut spin. It was when she stopped to take a breath that he called out to her.
"Hathaway!" He barked. "Come here."
She didn't even try to cover up her eye rolling as she skated over to her coach. She stopped a few feet in front of him. "What now Belikov?"
"Get your shoes and put on some warmer clothes. We're going to lunch."
Dimitri literally had to drag her out of there. It took Kirova closing the rink and both of them corralling the skater into Dimitri's car to even get her out of the parking lot. Rose tried as hard as she could, but he was stronger, taller, and had two hundred more pounds of muscle than her. Eventually he figured hoisting her over over his shoulder would give him better results than just dragging her. He ignored the strange looks he received from people walking and continued on.
Rose huffed and settled for leaning on his shoulders, digging her elbows into his back and hoping it hurt. "Are you always this intimate with your skaters, or am I just special?"
"Well you are pretty special."
"Why do I think you don't mean that in a good way?"
"Let's put it this way; you're one of the biggest pains in my ass I've ever had to deal with. You'll meet the other one when we get there."
She grinned. "Happy to be of service."
They ended up at a nice looking restaurant on the better side of town. Dimitri let her down, but made sure to keep a firm grip on her arm as he dragged her inside. Ivan's Garden was written in a strange cursive above the door. The inside had a simple romantic atmosphere. Small candles in colorful glass containers were surrounded by wreaths of delectable smelling flowers on the tables as centerpieces. There was a fire pit on the left wall, surrounded by plush chairs and a comfortable looking couch. The bar in the far back held a wide array of exotic alcohol and were placed over a bar made of expensive marble. Barely anyone was inside except an older couple and a woman and her baby.
"Dimitri!" A man stepped out from the back and yelled as soon as he saw them. He wasn't big or overly muscular, but there was intimidation as far as muscles were concerned. You could clearly see them under the expensive business suit he wore. The huge smile he wore made him seem less like the head of a Russian gang and more like a rich uncle. "Well isn't this a surprise! You didn't tell me you were coming today."
Dimitri smiled and shook hands with the man. "I wasn't planning to, but I need good food to get me through today."
There was a sparkle in his eye as he listened to his friend. "You came to the right place, my friend." He noticed Rose standing behind Dimitri. "Who is this? Your new girlfriend?"
He laughed as they both turned red. Rose was sputtering out denials while Dimitri tried to get his complexion from fire hydrant red to a more normal color. "We aren't dating. Ivan, this is Rosemarie Hathaway, my student and ice skating Olympian in the making. Rose, this is Ivan Zeklos, my best friend from college and the owner of this place. He's also the other pain in my ass."
Ivan grinned as he enthusiastically shook her hand. "It's an honor to meet an athlete like yourself. We Russians love our ice princesses." Rose blushed even harder and Dimitri let out a laugh. Rose frowned at him "Table for two?" They nodded. "Follow me please."
He led them to a table closer to the fire pit. To Ivan's surprise, Dimitri actually pulled out a chair for Rose; also much to Rose's embarrassment. A waiter came over and took their drink orders before leaving the trio to chat.
"So," Ivan leaned forward, a sly smile on his face. "how did you two meet?"
"That was fun." Rose surprised herself by admitting it. "I can see myself coming here again."
Dimitri gave her a pointed look. "So you can see yourself taking more breaks?"
Rose frowned. "I said I could see myself coming here again. That doesn't mean I would do it too often."
He knew that was the best he could ask of her. "I was surprised when you ordered the golubtsy."
"You and Ivan both. Did you see his face? It was like Christmas had come early for him. I mean, what's so special about golubtsy?"
He smiled. "When we were sick in college, our mothers used to rush to our dorms and feed us golubtsy." He shrugged. "It reminds us of home."
"That is why he freaked out?"
"Freaking out is a little strong. I would say that he was happy to see that you wanted it."
Rose shrugged. " 'Dunno why."
Dimitri had a fairly good idea, but didn't dare voice his thoughts to Rose. Not only was she a good 10 years younger than him, it was extremely looked down upon for trainers and skaters to have that kind of relationship. It would be social suicide for Rose. He wasn't going to give in to his desires just so he could be happy with Rose by his side. She had enough to deal with already.