Stahma Tarr is no one's fool (noonesfool) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-10-31 13:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, nikolai luzhin, stahma tarr |
Who: Nikolai and Stahma
What: A meeting to discuss some things.
When: Late October
Where: Stahma's home
Warnings: Family-friendly
Status: Complete upon posting
Things seemed to be settling into place. Business discussions were going smoothly with the Italian family in Los Angeles. Kenya and Nikolai were here which gave Stahma more of a sense of calm. Not that she hadn’t come with a couple of other bodyguards, of course, but Nikolai was the one she trusted the most. She’d known him the longest, and wouldn’t trust anyone else nearly as much with her safety or Kenya’s.
The only thing that unsettled her now was her dreams. The dreams of being an alien. She didn’t know what to make of them, so she hadn’t really talked about them. She didn’t want Nikolai or Kenya to think she was losing her mind because she wasn’t. At least it didn’t feel like she was. It was just something she didn’t quite know how to deal with so she just kept it to herself, like she did many things.
But today, she had a few reasons for calling Nikolai. She wished to talk with him and asked him to come to her home when he had a chance. She needed to discuss business with him, both her own and potentially Kenya’s. She wanted to ensure that Kenya wasn’t having any trouble from people. There was also what was happening with her father and Svetlana’s family.
Would the subject of her dreams come up? Potentially, but for the time being she was content to ignore them. They held little importance other than to confuse her. So she waited in her sitting room with tea served. Her house was, as expected, a large mansion in one of the more expensive and exclusive neighborhoods in Newport Beach. It was lavishly decorated, styled in a distinctly Russian style. Though there had been some changes made to aesthetics. There seemed to be more white creeping in, more of a stream-lined modern look to her home. That was the influence of her dreams. Something in her just wanted more white, more of a clean look.
~*~
Minions were summoned. Vor were asked to come visit.
Nikolai always felt the distinction when Stahma requested his presence which was one of many reasons she was beloved to him. No one could have ever accused her of being without poise or grace. The woman bled both into the vulgar world in which they were forced to live. The Old Country was a part of her along with a sense of something even older, something even colder than the heart of Mother Russia.
He appreciated her coldness greatly, largely because when it seemed she warmed for him?
The world was set on fire.
Someone let Nikolai in without asking anything of him which made for keeping him in a nice mood. He could not tolerate small talk with those beneath him. Everyone lower than his own class was beneath him unless he chose to elevate them in his eyes. It took much to ensure Nikolai would elevate another to his station without their having earned it among the brotherhood to whom he belonged.
Stahma had only to smile at him for him to raise her atop the highest pedestal in any trophy room.
Silently entering the room, he took a seat opposite her while waiting on her to serve their tea, a ritual of such which few would understand outside the pair of them. Nikolai noted only the creases on her face where she appeared troubled and the way her mouth was set which indicated she was not truly happy.
It bothered him to see her in any kind of distress. Business was good. Kenya was good. He was good. What was not so good for her?
"You look troubled. What can I do to make things good for you? I like you smiling."
~*~
Stahma may be a product of the class of Russians who was given everything she could ever need growing up, but she wasn’t so spoiled that she couldn’t distinguish between people who were worthy of respect and those who weren’t. Nikolai deserved respect, and she gave it to him without question. To most people, her marriage to Datak must seem quite strange. Datak was abrasive, all fire and action while Stahma was the cold, calm and more diplomatic one.
But of course, that coldness had more than one effect. While it gave her a serene exterior, it was also a coldness that could bite colder than the coldest winter to ever set on Mother Russia. Stahma’s bite was a lethal one, and those who saw her bite scarcely lived to tell about it.
Stahma was what her father had made her, but she had done much molding of herself once Datak had entered her life. She was happier in that life than she would have been being a trophy wife to the man her father had initially picked for her. She had so many more skills that were put to use in the world in which she and Nikolai lived and thrived in. She felt powerful, and she was the woman she wanted to be. Strong, independent, loved, feared, respected, hated. Whatever anyone’s opinion was of her, it was accurate because Stahma could mold herself to play any role she wished to.
When Nikolai arrived and took his seat, she gave him a nod as she leaned forward and poured their tea. She made Nikolai’s tea precisely how he liked it, never forgetting that little detail. Picking up the cup, she looked at him, then handed the cup to him.
“I simply wish to forget. These dreams are strange to me.” Meaning they troubled her, but she wasn’t certain how to talk about the fact she was an alien in them. Nikolai would not judge her for it, that was not the issue. It was that she did not want to be seen as being insane or as though she were losing her composure.
~*~
Accepting the tea, Nikolai offered a wan smile. They were not a happy bunch. It was the result of being people who had too many secrets, too many burdens. Life was difficult to enjoy when one had no ability to fully share it with another. Even they could not be fully themselves with one another, it was the result of the life they had chosen to lead. Choices mattered far too much in their world for one to put aside their burdens even for a moment.
Soldier on.
That was the mantra by which they were forced to live their lives.
"Dreams can be deadly things. Dangerous. Lead us not into temptation, hhm?"
Nikolai knew he had pushed himself farther because of worries from his dreams. His mind had often tried to show him the error of his ways, but he knew what mistakes he made. Every decision had a consequence; he was prepared to accept those consequences as he made his choices. No one needed to warn him of the dangers of his life. Stahma likewise did not need him to patronize her by saying she needed to be careful of the choices she made.
All she seemed to need was someone who could understand her choices were not made lightly nor did they come without their price.
"Are your choices leading to bad dreams, Stahma?"
~*~
Even if Stahma had remained on the path in life her father had initially laid out for her to follow, she would still be stuck in this sort of way of life. She would still have her secrets to keep, appearances to put on, unable to truly be herself. Some days she wondered just who exactly she was for when it came down to it, the majority of her life she’d been told how she should be. Her father had been there and guided her. Then it had been Datak. Her husband was a complex man, one she both loved and hated. Only recently had she taken the step to take more control in her life, but she’d equally taken further precautions to control herself. Datak acted on his emotions, flared them for all to see. Stahma kept hers extremely close to her chest.
She wasn’t precisely a control freak, but she needed some measure of control over her life. Her dreams were something she couldn’t control, and she hated it. She’d seen people on the Valar network discussing changes they’d undergone because of the dreams. She was somewhat fearful of one day turning into the alien version of herself. She couldn’t exactly go walking around without drawing unwanted attention to herself.
And in the business both she and Nikolai had chosen, drawing attention typically resulted in death. Or at the very least bad things happening.
Cloak and dagger. That was the way Stahma operated her business. Unseen, unheard, but the presence being undeniable to all who felt it.
“It is possible,” she said and sipped her tea. “I thought myself long beyond bad dreams, I am not a little girl any longer. Clearly, I was mistaken.” The parallels between her waking life and her dream life were not lost on her. So many similar things had happened, and she didn’t quite know how to react to them. So she kept it all to herself as she always did.
Stahma rarely confided in anyone. Not completely, anyway. People received bits and pieces, but Stahma kept the larger part of her issues to herself. And perhaps that was why so few actually understood who she was on a deeper level.
~*~
Shaking his head to the negative, Nikolai responded, "No. Dreams are not limited to the young. Age is has no place in deciding our dreams. There? We are outside our age, our faith, ourselves. Dreams are where the worst things we can imagine can happen to us."
Dreams were also the worst things to be taken from someone. Nikolai had witnessed people survive through unthinkable torture only to give up when their dreams were stolen. The body could handle far more than the mind. That was something many could talk on yet few could say they had actually experienced. He was among those who could say they knew the experience personally.
His body bore the scars, the marks, the seals of his devotion to his brotherhood.
Nikolai was grateful only his body was visible when people looked upon him because he could not imagine the scars which marred his mind.
"Could be you need something other than work to focus on. Your son maybe? A lover? I would say your husband yet we both know the troubles which come from Datak."
Nikolai wanted to keep himself in good with the Tarr family, but Datak was more trouble than he was worth. His connection to the patriarch of the family was negligible when he could claim an association with Stahma. She was the true figurehead of their family. Theirs was a matriarchy; any who thought to argue differently would change their minds after a conversation with someone sent by Stahma.
He would have gladly went to pay a visit to someone who did not treat Stahma as she deserved to be treated.
Theirs was an understanding with a lifetime guarantee.
~*~
Stahma gave a slightly bittersweet smile. “Sometimes we suffer worse in life than we do in dreams.” She was referring to her relationship with Datak, the abuse that came with it. Of course, the abuse hadn’t been frequent, the physical abuse anyway. And Stahma was not a battered wife like many who had abusive spouses were. She didn’t take Datak’s shit, and gave it right back to him. Thus some of their fights had turned physical when her temper got the better of her.
The only exception had been the time Datak had tried to kill her, and nearly succeeded. She didn’t know why he had stopped considering he’d been so angry that she’d been running the family business while he’d been in prison. But it mattered little because she was alive and able to do what she wished to.
“Perhaps I do. For a lover, there is Kenya, attempting to rekindle what we had.” That affair had not been secret, at least not to Nikolai. Oh Datak had eventually found out, but he had been the first to be unfaithful. “I would like to see my son, but I do not think he would wish to see me.” Mostly because of the path in life he wished to pursue being vastly different from her own.
It pained her to think about him because she loved her son deeply, but she failed at showing it. People raised the way she had been never truly knew how to show love. Stahma was a product of her surroundings when she’d been growing up. It unnerved her sometimes just how different Alak was from her and Datak, but she also knew he’d be safer being outside of the family business. Well, to an extent. They had their enemies, of course, and Alak had a target on him because of his family name.
“Agreed, Datak comes with complications. We both know his temper quite well.” And Stahma didn’t want to deal with her husband’s petulant nature currently.
~*~
Lovers were a discretion Nikolai kept for the women he cared about in his life. They had earned his loyalty which meant he'd never betray their secrets. Stahma would mention Kenya by named as her lover; Nikolai would not. There was a clear line in the sand for him which could not be crossed. She had hurt Kenya yet Nikolai knew Stahma hid her pain better than most courtesy of her upbringing.
It could be Stahma was as wounded as Kenya.
Nikolai would not pry enough to ask.
"Kenya shares many nights yet some she remains alone. Paying her a visit would not be remiss. I would answer the door. I would not allow anyone to see you or know. There would be no risk to your reputation if you wished to visit her for your benefit with no intentions to bring her harm."
Normally, mentioning any stipulations to Stahma would not be like Nikolai. Kenya Rosewater was his exception in that he would fight for her safety, well-being, care. She was one whose life had been hard enough. Nikolai would not allow more harm to befall her if he could prevent it. Stahma was a beautiful woman with means. If she wished a pleasure girl? She could do as Nikolai did and employ one if it meant sparing Kenya pain.
"Your son would see you. Duty runs as true in his blood as his name. I would to be making no promises of how kind he would treat you. He would see you. Of this much I am sure."
Datak would not be mentioned by him again.
Nikolai did not dwell on those things which upset him.
~*~
Stahma was always tight-lipped and secretive when it came to her personal life, but she trusted Nikolai, which was why she used Kenya’s name. It was also at least partly due to her dreams, the guilt she inwardly felt about having killed a woman she loved. But she had also hurt Kenya in this life, when she’d broken things off after Datak had gone ballistic upon finding out her indiscretion. Breaking it off and distancing herself from Kenya had hurt her, broken her heart, but she’d never said a word about it, never showed it. She carried everything inside and never let it out.
“That would be fine. At least here, such things are easier to engage in.” There were far too many eyes in Moscow, too many of her father’s people, Datak’s people that watched her. It had been a miracle that her affair with Kenya had gone undiscovered for as long as it did. But she credited people like Nikolai for that.
“That he would see me is a start. Though I do not expect him to be kind towards me.” Between her and Datak, she had been the least aggressive parent, but she had not approved of what he wished to do with his life. Lines had been drawn, divisions made. Simply more consequences of her life that she would need to deal with.
A life that was quickly coming to be something other than she wished it to be. The dreams were changing her, making her more Castithan in how she acted and presented herself than anything else. And yet she still waited for the day that she would wake up with white skin, lilac eyes and grey-white hair.
~*~
Nikolai reached out to dare to stroke the back of his hand down the cool skin of Stahma's cheek. It was a tenderness he would allow others to see from him only if he had abject faith in them. America did not breed those who were easy to trust. Nikolai had found himself trusting Stahma and Kenya. Everyone else was a question mark he may or may not seek to erase from his life. There was always the possibility of circumstances leading to sacrifices which must be made.
He had promises to uphold. Life was not always Nikolai's own to choose to work with one way or another.
"I have to say this boy of yours? He hurts you too badly, he may receive a visit from me to discuss manners with ladies of worth. I would not touch him. He is your son. For that? He would be spared. He would listen to me. I will not have you disrespected or hurt for nothing more than being yourself."
Stahma's pride was an asset in Nikolai's eyes. He would kill for her to defend her body or her honor. These were equal to a Vor. Alak Tarr was not enough of his mother or his father to understand the ways of their world. The young man was too much a boy for Nikolai to even understand what he was supposed to expect from him or how he should be acting with him. Every interaction he had with Stahma's family brought him closer to realizing he understood them not nearly as well as he thought.
Dropping his hand to his side, Nikolai offered, "Should you have need of me or of someone who cares for you? We are here. We are always here. Family. This is a promise."
~*~
The touch to her cheek was a surprise, but she more than welcomed it. Stahma was a woman who could benefit from more kind and tender touches such as the one Nikolai was giving her. It earned him a soft, genuine smile. Her smile functioned the same way Nikolai’s tenderness did, so very few earned a genuine smile from Stahma. She always had some ulterior motive that her smile masked, some hidden intention behind. But this time, there was none other than the genuine feeling he drew from her.
“He does, but my son is so very unlike myself or my husband. Some days I wonder if he is truly my son.” Though there was little doubt that he was her son. Alak had her hair and eye color. And, every now and then, there was a fire in him that burned more like his mother than his father. Which was for the best, one Datak Tarr was more than enough for the world. It did not need Alak taking after his father. “Though I would appreciate such a discussion. I think he has spent too much time in this country that he has forgotten the manners I attempted to instill in him.”
Stahma knew it wouldn’t change anything, not really, but it would at least be a start. She needed to have some time with her son. And at least here, they wouldn’t be interrupted by Datak and his less-than-savory approach to parenting. Stahma may be many things, but she always defended Alak when Datak raised a hand to him. Stahma hated when Datak laid a hand on their son.
“Thank you, Nikolai. We are family, and I am more than happy to have you as my family.” This time there was a wider, genuine smile as she looked to him. She really didn’t know what she would do without Nikolai in her life. He was more than a bodyguard or muscle or a hitman to her. He was family.