Celestino was definitely onto something when he said to take the week off. I'm glad we did. For the first time in months, I woke up without any of the old war wounds coming back to bite me. Mostly in my hip and it couldn't be more heavenly. And it was the first time in months I actually got to bond with Yurio over something outside of skating. I missed that. However, my elation would be very short lived.

Because today was the day. Today would mark the first competition my boys would ever skate in. As their mother, I couldn't wait to see Yuri and Yurio skate against each other. On the other hand, as a coach, I really couldn't wait to see Yurio wipe the floor with Yuri. Does that make me a horrible mother? I feel like that kind of thinking makes me a horrible mother.

"Mama!" Yurio scrambled, "Where are my skates?"

"They were next to Yuri's," I grabbed Yurio's water bottle out of the dishwasher and filled it with apple juice.

"Where's that?" he squeaked.

"In the closet, Yurio," Victor stepped in.

"What about my costume?" Yurio asked.

"That's at the rink already," I promised. That's the plus side about their first competition being at their home rink. Not even time yet and I'm already exhausted. I had to pull an all nighter the night before getting Yurio's costume done and an all nighter last night doing Yuri's because Victor's scatterbrained mind forgot to contact a seamstress for that sort of thing. Amazing how quick I could hammer something out for him. Mama was going to need to get some sort of liquid energy before competition, so she actually looks like a competant coach. God knows word of what happened with Yakov probably spread like wildfire, "Boys, go wait in the car."

"Ok!" Yuri took Yurio's hand and they took their bags outside.

"Vi?" Victor worried, "Are you ok?"

"Relatively," I screwed on the lid, "But I'll be fine."

"Relax, sweetheart," he wrapped his arms around me, "You're going to work yourself too hard and that's going to translate into Yurio's performance. Don't let him see you sweat and he won't sweat either. I promise you'll do great and Yurio will, too."

"But," I melted in my husband's embrace, "It's their first competition, Victor..."

"It'll be fine," Victor poked my nose, "Don't work yourself up. I know that's easier said than done for you, but don't work yourself up. You'll end up passing out and then, Yurio will be out a coach."

"He's got you, though."

"If Yurio wanted me to coach him," he chuckled, "He would've asked me. That's what he's got you for. You need to relax, Violet."

"I know," I sighed out, "And I will once the season's over."

"No," Victor scolded, "You'll get some time between competitions. You know this. I know it's been a while for you, but you know how this works."

"I need a nap," I rested my head on his shoulder.

"After today's competition," he suggested, "How about we get Natalia to watch the boys and you and I get dinner and drinks? Sound good?"

"Da," I agreed, "That sounds amazing."

"You deserve it," Victor kissed the top of my head, "Let's go see the fruits of our labor, shall we?"

"Good luck," I smiled.

"Davai."

With that one little word, I went back six years in my head. My first competion. I didn't think I was going to be able to do it. My nerves were on high and my fear was dragging me down. Celestino was doing all he could to keep me from spiraling too much, but nothing was working for him. Then, a man came up behind me and hugged me tight, whispering one, lone Russian word in my ear. And everything was ok again. The look on Celestino's face when he found out I was close with Victor Nikiforov was rather priceless.

We had this. The competition was ours.

Once we got to the rink, I went to sign Yurio in. He watched over my shoulder, confused, "Mama..."

"Yeah, baby?" I dropped the pen back on the table, drawing his position number. Third. Not a bad place to be. It's not first and it's not last.

"Why did you write Yuri Plisetsky?" he wondered.

"Because," I explained, "There can't be two Yuri Nikiforovs on the bill."

"Why did you put Plisetsky, though?"

"My last name wasn't always Nikiforov, Yuri," I giggled, "That was my last name before I married Victor."

"Does this mean," Yurio's eyes grew wide, "Victor's name isn't going to be on any of my records?"

"No," I shook my head, "Yours will."

And I never saw that kid so happy. Not since I told him he could go on the ice for the first time, "No one will know I have any connection to Victor?"

"Nope."

"Where are you in the lineup?" Victor asked, Yuri in hand. "We're third," I told him, "What about you guys?"

"First," Yuri cringed, "I didn't want to be first."

"It'll be alright, Yuri," I comforted, "Don't worry about it. First isn't too bad to be. Someone's got to start the show. Why not you?"

"Ok," he still wasn't totally on board, but he'll learn. I wouldn't want to be first, but I wasn't going to tell Yuri that. He's already a walking bundle of anxiety. I didn't want to make him worse.

"Victor," I gave him a nudge, "Take care of him."

"I will," Victor assured, "He's my son, too, Violet. If I couldn't by now, I don't deserve him."

"Come on," I took Yurio's hand, "You need to go practice."

"Ok," Yurio wasn't going to fight me. That fire in his eyes was back and he was about to kick ass and take names. When we walked out to the rink, a couple other skaters were doing laps around the rink and a couple jumps. They weren't bad, but they weren't Yurio.

"Go ahead, baby," I laced up his skates, feeling an icy presense over my shoulder that snuffed the flame out.

"Thank you," he ran out onto the ice.

"Yakov," I grumbled, not even bothering to turn and look at him.

"Violet..." Yakov watched while Yurio landed a double axel, over rotating at the end, "I see Yurio hasn't gotten any better. But then again, he hasn't gotten any worse."

"Don't bother," I snapped, "I know what you're trying to do and I'm really not in the mood to deal with you right now."

"Fine," he let me go, "He might not be Yuri, but my skater is taking home hardware today."

"If you say so," I brushed him off and walked over to my husband, "Have I mentioned my disdain for Yakov Feltsman lately?"

"Every chance you get," Victor giggled, "Why? Did you see him?"

"He's trying to be intimidating," I smirked, "Not working."

"That's my girl."

"Did you see that, Mama?" Yurio skated over to the railing.

"Yeah, I did," I praised, "But you over rotated your double."

"If you're over rotating," Victor thought, "Maybe you could try going for a triple."

"Yeah!" Yurio gave it a shot, only to fall on his hip, "You told me to try it!"

"Keep working at it, baby," I settled him, "You'll get it. And we could have it down by next competition."

"I want to put it in this competition's routine!" he pouted.

"Try it one more time," I insisted, "If you get it this time, you can use it."

"Ok!" Yurio skated out to the middle, getting the speed he needed and took one big jump. Not only did he cleanly land a triple loop, but he probably had enough momentum to go for a quad, "I did it, Mama!"

"Yes, you did!" I hugged him, "I'm so proud!"

The announcement to clear the floor for the first performance was made and it was Yuri's turn. To no surprise, my poor baby was shivering by the bench. Luckily, Victor had it, "Yuri, what's the matter?"

"I'm not ready, Daddy," Yuri freaked, "I'm not near as good as the others."

"Yes, you are," Victor assured him.

"No, I'm not!"

"Yuri," I got down to his level, "You can do this. How are you supposed to be one of the best skaters to ever grace the sport if you don't go out there? Besides, I was one of the best. Daddy was one of the best. You will be, too."

"But what if I fail?" Tears started welling up in his eyes, "What if I don't even place?"

"Quit whining, piggy," Yurio growled.

"Yurio!" I snapped, "Not the time!"

"Well, I'm not standing on that podium alone!" he argued, "And you're good enough to be up there, Yuri! So, stop your crying and go skate!"

Wow...Now, I felt kind of bad for yelling at him. I loved Yuri, but sometimes he did need a little tough love. And right now, Yurio was the best one to give it to him. Neither Victor or I had the heart to yell at Yuri unless he really did something bad. Yurio wouldn't hesitate. His brash attitude was enough to get Yuri to settle down.

"Thank you, Yurio," Yuri wiped his eyes.

"Don't get all sentimental now," Yurio brushed him off.

"Come on, Yuri," Victor took our baby's hand, "You need to get ready. Opening ceremonies give us a little time."

"Good luck, sweetheart," I gave Yuri a quick kiss and his father shortly after, "You, too."

"Thanks, Violet," Victor hugged me tight, "You're a hell of a coach. Let no one tell you different."

"We should probably get you ready, too," I untied Yurio's skates, "You all loosened up, Yuri? Ready to go?"

"Ready!" There was no breaking his confidence today. Good. Yurio needed that. And he was so kind to share his confidence with his brother, "But Mama..."

"Yeah?"

"Before I get ready," Yurio asked, "Can we stay and watch Yuri first?"

"Of course we can," I allowed, sitting the little angel on my shoulders. Sometimes, I forget how sweet Yurio could be. His attitude could manage a little readjusting from time to time, but he had his moments.

And I see I'm not the only one that took a more medieval theme. Victor, too, had taken a page out of my book. It wasn't exactly uncommon for Junior competitors to use fairytales for their themes. They were just babies after all. More complex themes were generally reserved for the Senior division. But Victor had picked hope for Yuri's theme and along with that, his first routine would be to I See Fire. Odd. Victor usually picked instrumentals. I wonder what made him change his mind.

"Mama," Yurio tapped on my head, "I want to try skating this song."

"Maybe one day," I bounced him, "But for now, your music is already slated."

"I know," he watched intently while Yuri spun and danced on the ice. Yuri had definitely improved since the last time I watched him skate. But it wasn't enough to shake his younger brother. Yurio couldn't be more ready to jump down from my shoulders and throw his skates back on. I had to put him down, though. The kid was killing my neck.

Once Yuri's routine came to a close, the crowd went nuts. He wasn't bad, but all the sudden applause would startle the hell out of him. Yuri waved his final goodbyes to the audience and waited to hear his score, sitting comfortably on his father's lap. He struggled to catch his breath, consumed by the anticipation.

88.73. Respectable.

"Did you see it, Mama?" Yuri ran over to me, jumping into my arms, "I did so good!"

"Yes, you did, Yuri," I hugged him, "See? Nothing to worry about."

"But I'll still beat you," Yurio threw his two cents in.

"Yurio," I sighed out, "Let him have his moment."

"I don't think so."

"Violet," Victor reminded me, "It's trash talk. You remember that, don't you?"

"I didn't trash talk," I beamed, "I was a good girl when I skated."

"You're one of the rare ones," he teased.

When the crowd had settled down, another skater had glared a hole through Yurio. And Yurio, with his short fuse, wasn't going to let that go, "What's your problem?"

The boy didn't even dignify that with a response. He came off kind of cold. Such a shame he had that at such a young age. No kid deserved to have such a chip on their shoulder. However, no matter how cold he seemed, he had that same spark Yurio had. And that made him nervous.

"Did you know who that was, Yuri?" I asked him.

"I think he said his name was Altin," Yurio thought it over, "He bumped into me on the ice during practice. He could never keep up to me. He's not from around here either."

That must have been who Ingrid and Greta were talking about, "You're not afraid he'll beat you, are you?"

"Of course not!" Yurio squeaked, "I could skate circles around him.

The lights dimmed and he began his routine. Vivaldi's Four Seasons. I could get behind that. By the sounds of it, he skated to Winter. Appropriate, considering where we were. A little tongue-in-cheek for my taste, but he's not my skater. That's not my decision and not my problem. But this kid was good. Damn, he's really good! Most of his jumps were triples, but he went for a quad and fell hard on the ice.

"Mama..." Yurio shook a little, "He's really good..."

"Relax, Yuri," I settled him, "Come on. Let's go get you ready."

I was really proud of Yurio's costume. I worked my ass off on it. And Yakov wanted to go with a professional. We didn't need a professional. We had me. And not only did I have Yurio's costume done, but I had Yuri's in a day, too! Bite me, Yakov! Yurio's costume looked like high quality leather armor, which it should have. What else would the son of dragons be wearing? And the scorch marks were a nice touch, too. Good for you, Violet.

Just as I tied the last piece of Yurio's costume in place, I felt a wind in the room. And it was enough to blow out the little fire in my baby's belly, "What's the matter, Yuri? You look like you lost your best friend."

"He was so much better than me," he worried, "I'm not going to place, am I?"

"Listen to me," I centered him, "What are you here to do, dovahkiin?"

"Conquer…" Yurio spoke meekly.

"That's right," I nodded, "What are your mobs? What are you fighting?"

"My fears," he started to come around, "Being sick…The jumps I couldn't land…The spins I couldn't get."

"And your final boss?" I asked, "Who do you want to beat more than anyone?"

"Yakov," he growled. There it was…

"You got this," I gave him a quick hug, "You ready?"

"A little…"

"Come on," I smiled, "That doesn't sound like my dovahkiin. Are you ready?"

"Yes!" Yurio bared his teeth.

"There he is!" I pulled him onto his feet, "Let's go."

And Yurio walked out of that locker room with a false cockiness that would get him through, but he was still a tad uptight. I had to do something. When I gave the sound guy Yurio's program music, I told him to kill the main vocal track. If anything was going to get that kid to settle down…I stood with Victor and Yuri by the separation.

"Yurio!" Victor squealed, "Davai!"

I could feel Yurio's eyes roll from here, "Victor, settle down."

"Fine," he gave me a look, "What's with the microphone, Violet?"

"You'll see," I assured. It's been a long time since I sang in the dragon's tongue. This wasn't just Yurio's performance. Once the music started, Yurio almost looked surprised to hear my voice. He always calmed down when I was around him. I figured my voice bouncing around the walls would really get him to relax.

And damn, if I wasn't right. I've never seen Yurio give such a lively, energetic performance. Every jump, perfect. Every spin, immaculate. The routine as a whole, flawless. He slayed and conquered the lands he came in contact with. And he had the entire audience on their feet. I couldn't be prouder of my baby. He's come so far and so quick. Then again, I wasn't sure if their applause was for him or for me. Maybe both?

With great excitement, we waited to hear Yurio's score…

89.04!

Worth every single moment we spent on that ice. Every drop of blood spilled. Every sleepless night. It all came down to this. And we nailed it. Even better, we did it without Yakov. Yurio and I earned this moment in the sun. And if I didn't know any better, I'd think there was a tear coming out of my son's eye…

"Yuri?" I worried, "You ok?"

"We did it, Mama…"

"Yes, we did," I kissed the top of his head.

Just as we were coming back, the kid from earlier stopped us, "Hey…"

"What?" Yurio immediately jumped on the defensive.

"You were great…" the boy couldn't even make eye contact.

"Thanks," Yurio was skeptical and had every right to be.

"Good luck this season…"

Weird. He just left. I think Yurio might have just made a friend. Or a rival. Because one Yuri wasn't enough. The four of us sat and waited with baited breath while the judges made the final tally of the scores.

"Yurio!" Victor squeezed him tight, "I'm so proud of you! You did so well!"

"Let me go!" Yurio squirmed out of his father's arms.

"I'm proud of you, dovahkiin," I took him away from Victor.

"Thank you, Mama," he cuddled into my shoulder.

"In third place," the announcer called, "With a score of 86.92, Otabek Altin."

"So, that's what his name is," Yurio shrugged, "He's good."

"In second place," the announcer continued, "With a score of 88.73, Yuri Nikiforov."

"That's my boy," I awed.

"Hold on," Yurio thought it over.

"And in first place…"

"Does that mean…?"

"With a score of 89.04…"

"No way…"

"Yuri Plisetsky!"

"ME!" Yurio jumped up, "I WON!"

"That's right, baby!" I cheered, "Go get your medal!"

Yep. Yurio was now successfully in happy tears. And now, we had to go home and pack up. With both Yuri and Yurio placing as high as what they did, it's time for the next round. In the next couple days, we were going to have to make a flight to Japan. Our next competition's in Tokyo.

A/N: I'm so sorry this is up so late. I've had a very busy day. But on the plus side, Yurio won! And he's made a new friend. I wasn't going to have Yurio call Otabek an asshole like he did originally. They're still so little. But now, we're going to be in Japan soon, so we have that to look forward to. See you next chapter! xx