Chapter 43 - Coping
Present day - April
Rose POV
"I don't understand," I stammered. "That's not what it means."
"Did he force you into something?" Spiridon asked.
"No! We've been through this already!" I yelled. "I don't understand what's going on. Why would he teach me something like that?"
"Whenever you said that, what would he do or say?" Dimitri asked. The knuckles of his hand that was still gripping the towel had turned white.
"Yeshche net, moya kukolka," I stammered, clearly remembering all the times he'd said that to me. Sometimes with a smirk, sometimes with a stare that made my skin prickle.
Spiridon rubbed his jaw roughly with one hand, moving up to press the heel of his hand into his eyebrow. He was shaking and I took a few steps back, I was sure that he would explode. Dimitri let out a long breath and pressed his mouth into a tense line.
"Not yet, my little doll," Spiridon said tersely.
It took me a moment to understand. Every time I had repeated the things Igor had taught me to say, he'd always responded with some version of that. Meaning he'd always responded by calling me his little doll. In fact, I had been sure that kukolka meant idiot or something similar so I'd always laughed it off thinking it was part of our jest.
I couldn't handle anymore, I needed to get away from them. I couldn't handle the way they were looking at me with pity and anger. I couldn't handle knowing that the person I thought had been the most normal, the kindest one at the Institution had in fact been lying to me all along. I couldn't handle knowing that my gut feeling had been right all along, and that I should've listened to it better.
My eyelids felt like they had been glued shut from crying the entire evening. I was locked inside my room alone, processing everything I had learned. Both Dimitri and Spiridon had been outside my room several times, trying to coax me to open the door. I had ignored them, not having any energy to deal with any of the outside world, and that included both of them. It felt too much. Everything was just too much.
I walked over to my bathroom, thankful that I had one that I didn't have to share. I stopped still in front of the mirror, blinking and frowning as my eyes adjusted to the sharp light by the bathroom mirror. My face looked ten times worse than expected so my initial plan of just rinsing my face turned into a full-blown shower. I turned off the lights, keeping the door open slightly to allow some light from the bedroom in.
I sat down on the warm tiles in the shower, letting the hot water spray over me. I drew my knees up and wrapped my arms around them, fighting the sobs that threatened to take over again.
I was so tired. I didn't want to cry anymore, I just wanted it all to stop. I was just so tired of feeling like this.
I kept thinking how I had been tricked by Igor to say vile things, and my mind kept repeating all the times he'd looked at me with a smirk, with hunger, with longing after I'd said the sentences he had made me rehearse. I didn't understand why he'd done that, what his motives were. I didn't understand why he had been calling me his little doll. Unless they had compelled me to forget, I was sure that he had never touched me sexually.
So far, I had never even seen a bare penis, not to mention have one in my mouth. At that thought bile rose in my throat and I had to swallow hard. I had already vomited this evening, and I didn't think my empty, aching stomach could handle any more.
Of course, I couldn't be sure. For as long as I didn't own my memories, I couldn't be sure what had happened or what they had made me do. I couldn't be sure what Igor had made me do.
Another tremor rocked through my body, so violent it almost felt like a cramp. I rubbed my skin harder, desperately trying to feel clean again. But to no avail.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
I was sure that all people had some kind of breaking point, and I was afraid that I had reached mine. I wracked my brain trying to think of ways to feel better, to not be consumed by anxiety and despair. I needed to find a way to resurface from the darkness, but it just felt hopeless. Everything felt hopeless.
I suddenly remembered what Lissa had said to me. When she had told me it was hard to understand why she'd cut herself trying to deal with things, but if inflicting physical pain to myself meant that I wouldn't feel so bad on the inside, then it was definitely worth trying. I was willing to do anything that meant getting back some control of myself. Right now, hurting myself seemed like the only option.
Ten minutes later I was standing in the kitchen, staring down at the little knife in my hand. Despite the size of it, it looked menacing.
The handle of the small fruit knife was made of plastic. It should've been light in my hand but for some reason it felt heavy enough to make my hand shake. I was scared, I was thrilled, I was desperate.
I was consumed.
I was second guessing my decision and almost put the knife back into its place in the knife rack. But instead, I stood frozen and held it in my grip until I heard footsteps ascending the stairs behind me. I quickly tucked my hand with the knife in my pocket. I turned around and watched Dimitri approach me, his eyes flicking down to my cheeks and undoubtedly noticing the puffiness from all the crying. He didn't get close to me and it seemed that he was keeping his distance, keeping the kitchen island between us.
"I'm so sorry, Rose." His voice was only a whisper and he looked into my eyes, searching for something. "I don't know what to do, how to fix this. I don't know how to make you feel better."
I shifted uncomfortably. While his words were meant as comfort, as a token of support, the feeling of my stomach cramping like I was gutted and the way my chest constricted left me wanting to flee. He started rounding the kitchen island and I scurried the other way, intent on getting down the stairs and into my room. I left him in the kitchen and stumbled on the first step of the stairs. I hit my toe and almost missed a step. Even when I stumbled I kept my hand in my pocket, gripping the knife reassuringly. It would've been more natural to correct my balance with that hand, but instead I used my free hand to grab the bannister. I felt his heavy gaze on me and continued down the stairs.
I was just about to breathe out a sigh of relief, my bedroom door just within reach when I felt his presence behind me.
How someone that big, someone that tall could move so silently was beyond me. I didn't have the energy in me to scream or even yelp in surprise when his hand snaked around my arm and turned me around. Within a second he had me pressed against the door to my bedroom, his grip and body making sure I couldn't move an inch. He had yanked my hand from my pocket and kept it pinned above my head, and since he was crouched down slightly it was now level with his eyes.
I watched him stare at the knife in my hand, and his fingers around my wrist tightening their grip.
I started to push him away with my other hand, pressing against his chest. He grunted slightly, more distracted than actually bothered, before he had that hand pinned against the door too. I noticed that his hand was wrapped and I realized it was because of the cut he'd gotten earlier when he crushed the glass in his hand after I had said that disgusting thing.
My eyes prickled and I just wanted to escape. I felt ashamed of myself, ashamed that he had found that knife. I knew that I couldn't lie my way out of this, he must be aware of what that knife meant and what my plan had been.
"Let me go," I pleaded. Tears rolled down my face again, stinging my sensitive skin.
He kept staring at the knife, like it was his worst enemy. "Why were you hiding this and taking it to your room?"
I shook my head roughly, making me dizzy in the process. I knew there was no way out of this, but I couldn't bring myself to admit out loud what I had been planning on doing.
His eyes moved over to me. I wanted to flinch back when I saw how angry he was. "You do not hurt yourself," he said darkly, punctuating each word.
"Let me go!"
He stepped back but kept his hold on my wrist. His other hand quickly snatched away the knife and I scrambled away from him when he finally released me.
"You do not hurt yourself," he repeated.
"That's none of your business!"
"I can't fully understand what you're going through, but using that knife on yourself is not an option." His voice could've cut steel.
I ignored him and moved to open the door to my bedroom but he placed his palm on it, pushing back and blocking my escape route.
"You come to me, or you come to Spiridon. But you do not hurt yourself, do you understand?"
"It's too much! I don't want to feel like this anymore, I can't take it anymore," I sobbed, wrapping my arms around myself.
"If it gets too much, you come to me," he repeated, his words more gentle now. For some reason, it was easier to deal with his anger so I started crying even harder. I yanked the bedroom door again but instead of letting me pass he drew me into his arms. It was the final straw, and I completely broke down again. The only thing holding me up was his arms around me, I didn't even have the energy to cling onto him. He held me up like a ragdoll while the sobs wrecked my body.
"Why are we doing this?" I asked. Dimitri had forced me to change into workout gear and told me to wear my plain sneakers.
"It'll make you feel better."
"How?" I asked and frowned. He turned towards me.
He ignored my question and opened the back door. The night was cold, and so was his stare. "Two laps."
"But Strigoi?" I asked alarmingly. He shook his head and pushed me out the door. "Bears?"
"I've got you. Now start running," he said and pressed down the button of my headlamp. It lit up his face and I noticed how tense he was. He blinked once and I watched his pupils constrict by the sudden light.
I turned around and started with a slight jog. After the first lap my lungs were on fire. The lake wasn't that big, but I coughed slightly and slowed down.
"Push yourself. This isn't for fun."
I stumbled forward and kept my eyes on the narrow trail, lit up by the headlamp. I wasn't entirely sure the headlamp was needed, but there were a lot of roots that could easily be missed. I was sure Dimitri was trained enough so that he could navigate through the darkness without any effort.
"Are you trying to punish me?"
"Less talking, more running."
He was infuriating but I did as I was told and managed to finish the second lap, falling down to the cold ground.
"Up, we're not finished."
He offered me his hand and I took it, allowing him to pull most of my weight up instead of getting up myself. We headed to the guardian quarters.
"Stretch."
I wasn't sure how he wanted me to stretch so I mimicked his movements and noted that I was a lot more stiff than he was. The sparring mat underneath us was only moderately comfortable.
"Are you trying to punish me?" I asked again and groaned as I tried to reach my feet the way he was effortlessly doing.
"You were about to self-harm."
I snorted. "And that means that now you get to punish me and be mean to me?"
He stopped stretching and looked at me with a serious face. "I don't know the reason why you thought you had to resort to that. Perhaps you couldn't handle your emotions in another way, thinking that was the only way out. Perhaps you wanted to punish yourself. Perhaps it was something else. No matter what, exercising and pushing yourself like we did tonight is a better way to get the endorphins out, or a better way to punish yourself if that's what you felt like you needed to do. What we are doing right now," he said and waved his hand, "is to prevent you from feeling like a truck ran over you tomorrow."
"Why are you so angry?"
He glared at me and I shrunk back. "You were about to hurt yourself, and you ask me why I'm so angry?"
"I don't want you to be angry with me, I have enough going on without it," I muttered.
"I'm not angry with you, I'm angry at this whole situation. I'm angry because of everything you've had to go through, because of men like Igor and Moore. I'm angry because I feel helpless and useless. I don't know what to do, I don't know how to fix this. I never, ever want you to feel like things are so bad you need to resort to marring your skin to survive, or worse, that you need physical pain to endure your emotional pain." He rubbed his face with one hand. "Look, this isn't about me. You're right, you have enough going on. Before I drop this for now, I need you to promise me something."
I felt apprehensive towards making any promises. It must've been visible on my face because he held up his hands. "Next time it gets too much, you come to me."
I stared down at my hands in my lap, twisting them anxiously. I wasn't sure if I could keep that promise, but I could always try. I nodded, feeling my cheeks blush from the shame. It was hard to come to terms that I had taken that knife with the intention of using it on myself, and felt a whole new level of respect for Lissa for being able to speak about it so openly and share her struggles. She'd said that Deirdre had helped her find better ways to deal with things, and maybe I just needed that.
"I want you to promise me one other thing."
I looked up and found his dark eyes trained on me. My blush deepened.
"I want you to see a counselor. At least once."
"Will you stay with me? I don't think I can handle it alone," I asked nervously. The thought of facing someone new scared me, in addition to feeling exhausting.
His eyes softened a little bit. "Whatever you need."
Freshly showered I found myself back in the kitchen with Dimitri. The pizza was currently in the oven on some kind of stone that was supposed to make the crust better. I was absolutely wrecked. In fact, I had been so occupied that I hadn't even realized that Spiridon was gone.
"He's going to be away for a couple of days, a week at most. There are some things we need to take care of and some leads we need to investigate. I promise you, we can discuss this in more detail tomorrow. But not tonight."
I just nodded, my entire being so heavy and tired. Crying always made my eyes sting and I had a terrible headache. Skipping dinner wasn't helping, and I was looking forward to the pizza.
He moved to the oven and took out the pizza. I drew in a deep breath, it smelled amazing. It didn't look the same as some pictures I'd seen, but I was certain it would be delicious.
"Let's give it a couple of minutes," Dimitri murmured. I groaned and slid down to the floor. I leaned against the kitchen island and let my head fall back, closing my eyes. I heard him move around in the kitchen, eventually filling a glass of water. Without opening my eyes I raised my hand knowing what was coming, and felt him slip the glass into my hand. I took a tentative sip and opened my eyes when he slid down onto the floor next to me. He held a plate with slices of pizza stacked on it. I gingerly took one, blowing on it to make it cool down enough for me to eat. Nevertheless I impatiently sank my teeth into the cheezy bit of dough and awesomeness, closing my eyes and suppressing a moan. I chewed slowly, ignoring the way it burned my tongue. I just wanted to enjoy the moment.
He took his own slice and we ate in silence.
The situation was absurd. I was on the floor in the kitchen eating homemade pizza with a guardian, after crying my eyes out and running twice around the lake because said angry guardian thought it would make me feel better. I looked over at Dimitri and took note how once again, it was him and me trying to get by and making the most out of the situation.
"Do you have a habit of eating pizza at 2 AM while sitting on the kitchen floor?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood. I grabbed another slice but due to feeling the immense anxiety earlier my stomach was already straining. I knew I had to take it easy.
The corner of his mouth tugged upwards. He finished chewing, his tongue flicking out to lick away a crumb that was left on his lips. I watched the movement in detail.
"It's a first for me." He looked up and reached to the counter to grab something, and when he lowered his hand he had a bottle of painkillers in his hand. Without a word he gave me one, which I gratefully took. I hadn't told him about my headache, but somehow he'd known.
His expression sobered when he watched me swallow the painkiller, his gaze flitting around my face taking in the puffiness and redness.
"Have you done it before?" he asked. I knew what he meant.
"I thought you said you would drop it."
"Rose."
Something in his eyes made the words slip out. "No, never. I just didn't know any other way to make it all stop, I just had to do something. Trust me, it wasn't a choice I'm proud of. But I was desperate."
He nodded slowly, contemplating my words. "Do I need to worry about this?"
I thought about the question for a while. Now, when the world wasn't suffocating me it felt like I would never do something like that again. Amidst the shame and guilt I also felt relieved that he had realized that something was off and stopped me from doing something I would've regretted. But the memory of how hopeless everything had felt lingered and I knew it wouldn't be easy when I was consumed by my anxiety. I didn't want him to worry though.
"No, I don't think so."
"How serious were your intentions? Were you trying to-" his words trailed off.
"No! Nothing like that, I just needed a way to ease the pain, to breathe again."
"Why didn't you come to me?" he whispered. I frowned, not sure if he was trying to guilt-trip me into never trying anything like that again. It seemed as if he guessed my trail of thoughts. "I'm asking because I need to know how I can be there for you the next time. I'm asking so that I can ease your concerns or adjust so that you'll feel comfortable enough to accept help."
"I always end up weak and crying in your arms. I just hate to be such a burden for you, I should be able to get on by myself and deal with things but somehow you always have to clean up the mess and get me back on my feet. I can't subject you to that any longer."
"You're not a burden," he said. His eyes were sad and the pizza was long forgotten. "You could never be a burden."
"Well, maybe I'll just be a burden to the counselor from now on," I said with false bravado.
"Just because you'll talk to a counselor doesn't mean I'm going anywhere. I'll still be here for you. You'll just have more support around you."
I nodded tiredly, letting my head fall back again.
"I think it's time to get some sleep," he said and got up from the floor a lot more gracefully than I could ever manage.
The hallway was dark and menacing. I fought the urge to scurry back to my room to the safety of my little nest, but I couldn't bear to be alone. I had woken up to a nightmare and I needed him. I knocked on his door, waiting for him to open it. A minute must've passed without any sign of movement, so I knocked again.
Nothing.
I hesitated, not knowing if I should return to my room or check up on him. A part of me felt worried about him, so I lowered the handle and felt my nervousness increase when I realized his door wasn't locked. I pushed open the door and looked around his empty, dark room.
If he wasn't here, where was he?
I thought about going to look for him, but the house felt too scary so I decided I would wait for him here. I sat down on the bed and brushed the surface with my hand, noticing that it was slightly warm. I felt a little better knowing he'd been in his room not so long ago.
Minutes passed and I shivered from the cold. I had only my thin pajamas on me and there were no hoodies or any other clothes in sight I could borrow from Dimitri. I did not have the strength in me to go back to my room or raid his closet.
I was so tired that I actually swayed while sitting on the bed, struggling to keep myself upright.
I looked longingly at the bed, and perhaps in a momentary insanity I decided that if I was here waiting for his return I might as well be comfortable. He had said that I should come to him if I needed him, so I comforted myself with that and hoped that he wouldn't be too mad about hogging his bed while he was gone. When he would get back I'd immediately get up and give back his bed.
I gingerly laid down.
His scent was so much stronger in his bed than it had been in mine, and I nuzzled down on the plush pillow. Never had I thought there would be something so comforting as this.
Only seconds passed until I was out cold.
I blinked my eyes open and noticed how the bedroom was a lot darker than I was used to in the morning. It was also a lot smaller, and the bed was smaller. And it smelled all differently than my own. Not in a bad way, just different.
I popped up on my elbow and looked around groggily, realizing I'd fallen asleep in Dimitri's room. He wasn't here, and I suspected he hadn't been here for the entire night.
I groaned slightly knowing that I had stolen his room, his bed and his privacy. I had been selfish again and done the exact thing that I loathed myself for doing. I flung my feet on the ground ready to go look for him and apologize. Instead of the cold hard floor my feet landed on something not so hard, followed by a grunt.
I yelped when something grabbed me.
I looked down and Dimitri blinked sleepily around him, his hand gripping one of my ankles. He drew in a deep gulp of breath trying to ease himself around the sudden discomfort of my feet landing roughly on his stomach.
"Good morning," he said with somewhat forced casualness in his voice, his voice rough from sleep.
I blushed deeply and moved to draw up my legs. He immediately released my ankle.
"Why are you on the floor?"
"When I came back to my room you were sleeping in here and I didn't want to disturb you. I thought about going to the couch but I figured you came here for a reason and didn't want to be alone. I'm sorry if I crossed some boundaries." He frowned and looked worried.
"You're worried if you crossed some boundaries very well knowing that I stole your bed?" I asked, not being able to hide the incredulousness in my voice. "I practically forced you to sleep on the floor, and you're worried? Why didn't you wake me up?"
"You really needed the sleep," he said and got up.
"So did you! Where were you anyways? It was in the middle of the night."
"The gym," he said, shrugging on his hoodie.
"What were you doing at the gym in the middle of the night?"
"Dealt with things my own way," he mumbled and left his room, probably giving me privacy to get out of the bed, or escaping my questions. I followed him.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I needed an outlet, that's all."
"Like the outlet you provided me when you forced me to run around the lake?"
"Something like that."
I followed him to the kitchen and when his hand grabbed the door to the fridge I gasped. It was bruised and swollen, small cuts splayed across his skin.
I stepped forward and grabbed his wrist, my fingers unable to meet. He let me direct his hand so that I could take a better look.
"Did you do this to yourself?" I whispered. He remained silent, so I grabbed his other wrist so that I could examine the other hand. It looked the same, only it also had the cut on his palm. "You're hurt."
"I was careless." He shrugged his shoulders and I released him.
"Doesn't that classify as self-harm?" I challenged him.
He met my gaze with a leveled look. "It'll heal."
With those words he turned his back towards me and busied himself with his morning coffee. I decided not to press further, biting down everything I wanted to say. I wanted to call him a hypocrite for lecturing me about planning to harm myself when he'd done it to himself. Different means but same end result.
We ate in silence and I was mildly annoyed that he didn't agree to let me have the leftover pizza for breakfast.
"I don't like knowing that you hurt yourself," I said while I stared down at my empty bowl of cereal.
His spoon paused briefly midair before he continued to eat the disgusting slush he called oatmeal.
"Don't you think you're being a little hypocritical?" I accused him.
"You're right, I am. Last night I went too far, I shouldn't have pushed myself like that. Like I said, I was careless and I won't do it again."
His gaze conveyed sincerity, but I still felt unease.
"Why didn't you come to me?" I asked him, repeating the same words he'd said to me.
"Probably for the same reasons you didn't come to me."
Touché.
We cleared the table together and I watched him pour himself another cup of coffee. He turned towards me.
"I'll set up a meeting with Deirdre for today. It'll probably be in the evening due to their nocturnal schedule at St. Vlad's."
"So soon?" I mumbled and anxiously shifted on my feet. I had agreed to this thinking I'd have a couple of days before it was brought up again.
"If you're not ready we can wait."
"No, it's fine. Might as well get it over with," I muttered.
"The purpose is to get you help from someone who hopefully knows what they're doing, someone that should know more about trauma and how to handle it. Spiridon and I," he said and trailed off, trying to find the right words. "We're not good at it."
"I think you're plenty good."
"While I'm happy that you feel that way last night was just proof of how inadequate I'm at handling delicate matters."
"Delicate matters? Let's just call it what it was." I didn't know why I was so defensive and snarky all of the sudden. His words made me feel weak and needy, but it still didn't feel like enough reason to act this way.
He didn't respond and busied himself again by the kitchen counter. I got the feeling that he was trying to dismiss me, but I was already riled up.
"I want Adrian to help me."
Dimitri stilled.
"Lissa said that it might help, that if she works together with him they might be able to break the compulsion."
I watched him, thinking that he would object to my request without even listening to my reasoning. I felt encouraged by the fact that he hadn't shot me down yet.
"Adrian can come here, or we can go to him. I know I'm probably going to be scared of him at first but he's friends with Lissa so he can't be all that bad and if there's a chance I might know what happened in my past I just think it's worth a shot."
I was still met by a silent and rigid Dimitri. His hands were gripping the counter and he dropped his head down. I watched how his hair, all ruffled from sleep, fell to the sides and revealed his molnija marks at the back of his neck.
After an uncomfortably long silence I was about to press further, but the second I opened my mouth he finally spoke.
"No."
That single word echoed in the kitchen, cold and firm.
"What do you mean no?"
He turned around, crossing his arms over his chest. "No," he repeated.
"That's not your decision."
"It is, and I said no." He walked away from the kitchen, leaving me standing there. I was seething, so angry that it took me several minutes before I managed to move.
I had successfully avoided Dimitri all day.
I was still upset that he had dismissed the idea of Adrian helping me. I didn't feel like it was his decision to make alone, it concerned my memories and my past so I should have a say in it.
For all I knew, I didn't want to be a victim anymore. I didn't want to crumble and fall apart every time I found out something about my past.
I just needed to know what had happened so it wouldn't take me by surprise. I needed to know so I could deal with it, so I could help others.
I didn't know how I would be able to convince Dimitri to let Adrian help us. I shivered as I thought about his domineering answer. He had never been as unwavering as he'd been this morning.
My legs were falling asleep so I stood up from the chair in my bedroom, stretching as I walked around. The book the guys had given me was getting more and more entertaining, and I kept thinking how Bella's fascination and awareness of Edward was similar to how I sometimes felt about Dimitri. And he definitely dazed me sometimes.
I looked around and noticed the book about Royal Moroi laying next to the flowers on the dresser. I narrowed my eyes at the sight of the flowers Dimitri had given me, still in great condition. Usually, I'd be happy to see them and they would fill me with comfort but now I just felt a tinge of shame and anger. Shame for him knowing what I had been planning on doing with that knife, and anger for him not even considering Adrian's help.
I walked over and looked more closely at the roses, noticing how the petals had opened more in the last few days. It reminded me of how Dimitri had made me open up more and managed to get me to trust him. My throat constricted and I let my gaze drop to the book next to the vase. I grabbed it and crawled under the covers of my bed.
The first chapter was the longest, containing information about the Ivashkov line.
My finger traced the sentence under the headline.
Favored by God.
I stared at the words thinking how true they were. From everything I had been taught and knew, the Ivashkovs were truly favored by God. I continued reading and found to my surprise that the name was actually originally given to fishermen and only later on caught the meaning that it is now known for. I couldn't imagine the most powerful Royal line ever doing hard manual labor in their life, so I concluded that favored by God was a much more fitting description. I skimmed through the older generations until I landed on Tatiana Ivashkov, the reigning Queen. I had of course seen her face many times in my school books, even written an essay about her. The picture was old, she was a lot younger and I realized the book was at least ten-fifteen years old, the picture probably more so. I continued with my search and briefly noticed that Tatiana had two nephews, and my heart almost skipped a beat. I had found what I was looking for, recalling how Lissa had described Adrian as the Queen's great nephew. This was all stuff Ms. Carmack had tried to hammer into my head, but for some reason it never stuck that well.
Adrian had to be the son of either someone called Nathan or Randall Ivashkov. I looked at the pictures of both of them to no avail, I had no idea what Adrian looked like.
Even so, I couldn't help but feel that the other one looked slightly familiar. His eyes were the same green color that most members of the Ivashkov family had, but the shape of them reminded me of someone. My eyes flitted around the face in the picture trying to find other clues. I noticed the strong jaw and the lips and briefly thought about Dimitri.
I turned the page and found a picture of a couple with a small boy standing between them. They were posing stiffly, the man's chin pointing upwards and he was looking down into the camera with a smile that could be classified as a sneer.
Lord Nathan Ivashkov with his wife, Lady Daniella Ivashkov née Tarus, and their son, Adrian Ivashkov.
Nathan's hand was clasping Adrian's shoulder so hard that it looked like his fingers were white from the pressure. It could've been an effect of the camera, but the painful look in Adrian's eyes made me think differently. Adrian was only a boy, probably around five years old. His chestnut brown hair was unruly, a stark contrast to his fathers combed back hair and perfectly styled mustache. The woman, Daniella, had dark hair but shared the similar eyecolor to her son, only hers were slightly lighter than Adrian's emerald green eyes.
I felt pity for the small boy.
I turned yet another page, not finding any other information about Adrian. I even looked briefly if the Queen's other nephew, Randall Ivashkov, had any children but there was no indication of him ever getting married or starting a family.
Soon enough, the chapter on Ivashkovs ended and I began to skim through the one on Szelsky.
The Szelskys were the second largest Royal Moroi line. According to this book they descended from a subgroup of Hungarians and lived mostly in present day Romania. There was a map on the bottom of the page. My eyes briefly looked at the old contours of countries and regions that didn't exist as they were in the present day. I was about to turn the page when my hand stilled, and my eyes immediately snapped back to the map. I moved my fingers to trace the small name of the region.
Ardeal, Transilvania.
Hadn't Dimitri mentioned that one of the Institutions was in the Ardeal region in Romania? I furrowed my brows trying to put all the pieces together, but even as I tried, I had to accept my defeat. It was just a coincidence and the Ardeal Institution had nothing to do with the Szelskys. The only thing in common was that they both were located in the same region, but that didn't really mean anything. The Szelskys weren't the only one active in Romania, after all a lot of our ancestors and cultural heritage came from those regions.
I shook my head and moved on to the next chapter, skimming through it and moving on until I reached the one of the Drozdov line. The first section underneath the headline stood out immediately.
Drozdov, a Russian surname, meaning thrush or blackbird. The Drozdovs originate from North-West Russia, the Onega region by the White Sea. After the first world war, due to large investments in the Swedish mining industry, specifically iron ore, large portions of the Drozdov line migrated to Sweden.
I blinked once. I blinked twice.
What had Dimitri said to me exactly? I remembered that he had explained that they hadn't found any confirmed patterns with the names of the Institutions, that the Ardeal Institution was most likely named like that since it was located in the Ardeal region, and that the Blackbird Institution in Sweden reflected the name of the Swedish national bird.
Okay, so both of them were still connected to the regions, but what if they were also connected to the Royal lines?
Szelsky for the Ardeal Institution, Drozdov for the Blackbird.
I scrambled up from my bed but my feet got tangled in the sheets so I stumbled down to the floor. The book fell from my hands and slid towards the door just as Dimitri opened it.
His gaze dropped down to me sprawled on the floor and he immediately closed the distance between us, helping me up to my feet. I ignored the bolting pain in my knee.
"Look, you need to look at this," I breathed out, hunching down to grab the book from the floor. I got on my knees, wincing slightly, and started to flip the pages until I found the chapter about the Szelskys.
"Look!" I said and pointed to the map. Dimitri got down on his knees next to me, and I watched as he examined the map and the text passages on the page, slightly narrowing his eyes. I could tell that he was thinking, contemplating and weighing whether or not the information I had presented to him was significant.
Something in his expression made me certain that he had come to the same conclusion as I had first, that it was just a coincidence. I yanked the book closer to me and roughly turned the pages until I found the right one. My finger was jabbing the page where it mentioned the migration to Sweden and the meaning of the name Drozdov.
This time, it was clear that Dimitri didn't immediately dismiss this new tidbit of knowledge.
"It's only circumstantial. It might just be a coincidence," he murmured, but I somehow knew he didn't entirely believe that. "Have you found anything that would connect the Lakeside Institution with any of the Royal Moroi lines?"
"No, not yet." I started flipping the pages more carefully now. "I already looked through the Zeklos and Dragomirs, not finding anything relevant."
We quickly scanned through the chapters of the lines of Lazar, Voda, Taurus and Dashkov. I was starting to lose my resolve, maybe it truly had been a coincidence. Dimitri's hand gently turned the page and we both stopped to read.
The Ozeras originate from Russia and are known to be prominent Fire users. The Russian word Ozera means lakes and the Hebrew name means Treasure.
I watched how Dimitri's finger traced the word lake, circling it slowly. With a quick glance I could tell that he was deep in his thoughts. I was impatient but managed to contain myself and allow him a moment to process it.
The typical Ozera has dark raven hair and icy blue eyes, which is in stark contrast to their element of Fire.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to think of anytime I had seen icy blue eyes, but nothing came up. Dimitri stirred and I looked up at him.
"It's still circumstantial. We can't know for sure if it's connected."
I felt my patience snap and I angrily got up. "So it's just a coincidence that the Ardeal Institution is in the Ardeal region where the Szelskys originate from? Yeah, sure. That's one coincidence. And maybe it is just a coincidence that Drozdov, which by the way name itself means blackbird, have migrated to Sweden and then suddenly you find an Institution called Blackbird in Sweden. And maybe it's a third coincidence that the Lakeside Institution, with no fucking lakes around it for miles, happens to have some similarities with the name Ozera. Sure, separately, three perfectly fine coincidences. Together? No fucking way it's all circumstantial and coincidental!"
Dimitri patiently waited out my rant, only slightly narrowing his eyes when I cursed. Luckily for him he didn't push my buttons further by chastising me for my foul language.
"While I agree that it's unlikely that it's not connected, we can't know for sure. But with that said, this is a very important discovery. With so few leads this is definitely a welcomed one."
I was about to huff harder with his vague affirmation when I felt his hand land on my shoulder. He bent down slightly, but I still had to crane my neck to look him in his eyes.
"You did well, Rose. Good work."
Despite the warmth his words carried I was upset that he didn't think this was as clear as I thought. In my mind, we had just revealed something huge but he didn't seem to think the same. I shrugged his hand off and walked out of my room. He followed me like the annoying shadow he sometimes was.
"You don't really believe it," I said over my shoulder.
"Is this how you want to have a discussion? Forcing me to talk to your back while you stomp away from me?"
"I hardly think you have the right to say anything about my social skills," I muttered. In a flash he was in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. "You're in my way," I said, trying to sound firm. To my dismay, I wasn't really fooling anyone. Despite knowing that it was my Dimitri, I felt the old, forced manners surface and I shuddered with the need to show him respect, the need to act accordingly to a guardian.
"If this is about this morning," he started hesitantly.
"Of course this is about this morning!"
"I swear, I never wanted you to feel uncomfortable. It won't happen again."
My retort was already on the tip of my tongue when I stopped to think about his words. They didn't really seem fitting, why would he think I'd be so uncomfortable with making a decision about Adrian. Angry, yes. Uncomfortable, no. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I shouldn't have slept in the room, and I promise that next time I will give you space."
"Are you stupid?" I blurted out. My hand moved up to my lips, touching them slightly. I couldn't believe I had said that out loud.
Dimitri narrowed his eyes. "I believe I still have my full mental capacity, but if you have a different opinion you're welcome to give me the insight," he said coldly.
"Do you really think I'm upset that you slept on the floor while I slept in your bed?"
He said nothing and did nothing, only watched me with his closed off expression.
"If it was up to me, I would be sleeping next to you, in the same bed, every single night. So no, I'm not upset that you snuck back into your room and slept on the floor next to your bed. If anything, I'm mad at myself for stealing your bed."
"What else is going on then?" he demanded.
It didn't escape me that he ignored what I had said about wanting him to sleep next to me. And a part of me couldn't believe I had actually said that.
"Adrian!" I ran my hands through my hair. "You don't get to decide that for me. You don't get to say no like that!"
"It's not safe. I won't do anything that compromises you."
"You're not my jailer! I'm more than capable of making decisions that affect me. This is my life, these are my memories!"
"I'm fully aware of the fact that you're not my prisoner."
"It should be my decision. At least, I should have some kind of say in it."
"No. It's too dangerous."
"Do you even know him? Do you even know if Adrian is dangerous?"
"I know the Ivashkovs, better than I would care to do. They are dangerous."
"So you don't know Adrian? You're just going to think every single member of the Ivashkov line is evil, and not give him the chance to help me recover my memories?" I took a few steps back, needing the distance. "You don't know what it's like. You don't know what it's like to try to build your confidence only to be shattered by the unknown. I don't want to be a victim, act like a victim all the time. I want to be me, I want to be whole, I want to not be suffocated by the unknown. I need this, Dimitri. I need to know what went on at the Institution. I need to help others!"
"You don't know if it's going to work. It didn't work with Vasilisa, it might not work with Adrian."
"If there's the slightest chance it'll work, I'm willing to try it. We can take precautions, we can do things to reduce the risk."
"No."
I stomped my foot once, frustrated as hell. "What's the point of even talking to a stupid counselor if I don't even remember what I'm supposed to talk about?"
"You can talk about the things you remember so far," he said calmly. Too calmly, I could tell I was getting under his skin.
"What about the other taken ones? I have an obligation to help others, they are out there going through fuck-knows what!"
"It's too dangerous."
"You don't know that Adrian is dangerous, that he is evil."
"I know what the Ivashkovs are like."
"Have you ever even met one?" I snapped. I turned around and stared at him. His jaw was twitching, clearly gritting his teeth. It looked like he was weighing something. When he turned his face towards me, his eyes were strained.
"I know what the Ivashkovs are like, because my father is an Ivashkov."
My mouth dropped open. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting, but it was definitely not that. "Randall Ivashkov," I whispered, more to myself than him. The shape of Randall's eyes, his jaw and lips manifested in the man in front of me. When I noticed that Dimitri had narrowed his eyes at me, I cleared my throat. "You look like him. A little bit at least. There was a picture in the book."
He didn't seem pleased that I had pointed out something they had in common.
"He's not a good man?" I asked, cringing when I saw Dimitri press his lips together. He slowly shook his head and walked over to the sink, filling up two glasses of water. He signaled to the tall chairs by the kitchen island and I moved over to sit down. Dimitri sat down next to me and handed me one of the glasses. I hadn't even realized how thirsty I was before I gulped down the entire glass. He passed me the other without any word.
"It's very rare to have a family like mine. Four dhampir children, all sharing the same father. Usually, Moroi men tend to take their pleasure for a while, leaving the woman to raise the outcome as a single mother. My father, however, liked my mother. In his twisted ways, he probably even loved her. He came back to her over and over again, manipulating his way into my mother's heart. He used to bring presents for us, and gave us means to survive better. With so many of us, we relied on his help. Without him, my mother and Babushka couldn't scramble up enough to support the family, and he knew it. He knew it, and he used it against her."
I watched his hand move to grab the glass he had given me, and he took a long sip before placing it down in front of me again.
"There were just so many incidents. I knew my mother didn't want more children. I remember the fight they had when he found her birth control pills, making a show of throwing them into the fireplace in front of the entire family. This happened well before Victoria was born, and we were already struggling to get by. Another child was only going to make things harder for us. It would only serve to make us more dependent on him." His face twisted with apparent disgust. "I can still hear my mother pleading him to stop, and when it failed, begging him to use a condom, only for him to quiet her down with a bite. Luckily, his visits weren't frequent enough for her to become fully addicted, but biting her and therefore drugging her was yet another way of controlling her and making her yield into his will. He was so disappointed when Victoria was born. Another girl. He wanted boys that would turn into strong men. He had no use of girls. We barely managed to get my mother to the hospital in time before she bled out. First the labor, followed by him beating her to the brink of death."
I was so tense I was shaking. It was heartbreaking hearing about the sweet woman going through all that. I had only met Dimitri's mother once, but she was nice and gentle towards me. I couldn't even imagine someone abusing her like that.
"Where is he now?" I asked with a weak voice.
Dimitri shrugged his shoulders. "Haven't seen him in over ten years. I made sure he knew he wasn't welcomed into our home anymore."
"What if he goes back to your mother?"
"I was very thorough, and very convincing. He won't be bothering her," he said firmly. His words implied violence.
"You beat up a Royal Moroi?" I gasped. I couldn't help it, it was too ingrained in me that Royals were untouchable.
"I beat up the man who fathered me, who was abusing my mother. He happened to be a Royal Moroi."
"Damn."
I could tell that Dimitri's walls went up. "You think I shouldn't have done that?"
"No! That's not at all what I think. It's just so, I don't know, can't find the word-" I said and trailed off. "It's just so badass," I finally said.
Dimitri's lips twitched and he chuckled darkly. I hesitantly smiled back at him, trying to let him know that I didn't condemn him.
"Badass?" he asked, and I nodded.
"I've never been described as badass before."
I snorted. "Really? I figured you hear it all the time."
"So you think I'm a badass?" he asked. It was clear that he was teasing, and I welcomed the lightness in our interaction after arguing and the revelations of his past.
"You are the most badassing badass I've ever met."
"Why thank you," he said and bowed down slightly with his head. He shook his head and returned to the more reserved version of Dimitri. "I should've done it sooner."
"How old were you?"
"Thirteen." He looked up and noticed me watching him with an incredulous look on my face. "I was big for my age, not to mention focusing hard on my training at St. Basil's," he said and shrugged his shoulders.
I got the feeling he was playing it down, and that he was in fact concerned about me passing judgment on him beating up his father.
"Badass," I said again, earning a shy smile from him.
Author's note: Debated for a while whether or not to add a trigger warning for attempted self-harm, but decided against it. So much angst in this chapter, promise that it will ease a bit. Needed Rose to process some stuff, in her own way. Same goes for Dimitri.
Thank you all for your support. Reading Gigi256's story called Cowboys and Thieves the other day reminded us that we are well overdue for some thanks to other VA fanfiction writers. As some of you might already have figured out, Spiridon is heavily inspired from Voldobaby's Temper me in fire, that story sparked the interest in adding him as one of the main characters. If you haven't read that story, it's our sincerest recommendation to do so, you will not be disappointed. We've found such enjoyment and fascination by that work and were awestruck by the author's ability to write. Other authors' works we've enjoyed are the entire VA DPOV Series written by Gigi256, as well as other stories such as the aforementioned Cowboys and Thieves and Meet Me In The Memory. The author has done such an amazing job capturing Dimitri's persona as well as bringing new life to the VA universe. Can't even complete the full list, but others we've read and loved include Swimming the Same Deep Waters, Alice-Roza, Scotty1994, RozaBelikova-x and many more. Whenever the creativity dies out we return to other VA stories and spark the interest and motivation to keep going.
This chapter was almost 9000 words long, future ones will definitely be a bit shorter. Amazing how much more you appreciate authors such as Voldobaby for producing such long, captivating and enjoyable chapters. We'll keep posting every second week.
We've realized that whenever we read fanfiction, it's always on our phones and not logged in. Therefore, we never leave a review that isn't a Guest user or favorite/follow anyone. We vow to start changing that!