Anya is a secret grand duchess (just_an_orphan) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2012-08-04 00:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | anya |
Who: Anya/Anastasia
What: Finally figuring out what her Seal gift means and being flooded with memory
When: Late Friday night
Where: The complex roof
Warnings: Angst. Quite a bit of angst.
Status: Narrative, complete, unless someone wants to be on a roof with a Russian princess
She made her way to the roof of the complex, taking some refuge in the late night quiet. The city was loud, louder even than St. Petersburg. It was a bit what she imagined Paris would be like, if she'd made it all the way there. But she wouldn't know now. This Seal had seen to that. So she retreated from the noise and the hustle and activity around her and found solace on a rooftop.
The jewelry box that had been in her room weeks ago was still taunting her. Anya knew she'd seen it somewhere before. It was the one that had fallen out of Vlad's bag on the ship. Or was it Dimitri's? It all seemed so long ago now. She didn't really remember. That tended to be a problem for her. Memory.
She'd taken to carrying the box around with her. In a bag over her shoulder when she went out in the city. Or in her hands if she was simply wandering around the complex. It was enough to drive her mad. She knew what it was. It was on the edges of her memory. If only she could get there, if she could grasp it and hang on, maybe she'd know. Maybe she'd finally have an idea who she was.
She supposed she could watch the film. She knew it existed now, thanks to Svetlana, and her girls had offered it to her. She'd declined as gently as she could, but it was clawing at her, the temptation. The need to see if that redhaired girl in the beautiful dress looking at Dimitri in a way Anya knew she'd never looked at him was really her. To find out the girl's story, to find out where she was from. If she had a family. Anya was eighteen, or near enough, and she didn't know a thing about herself other than the name she'd given the people who'd found her on the streets and that she wore a pendant around her neck.
The pendant. That...would be too easy. And yet she'd always found the shape interesting. And now that she'd spent a month playing with the box, toying with it, turning it over and over in her hands again and again... She knew the shape of the hole. And she knew instinctively what the pendant around her neck was. It wasn't just some charm. Together in Paris. It was a key.
Her blue eyes widened and she pulled the chain off of her neck and held it in her hand. The other, shaking hand held the box. A music box... Yes. Yes! A music box. She knew it now. She'd been given the key to open the music box. But by who?
It felt as if her heart was stopping as she placed the key into the box and twisted it. The finely crafted top flipped open and the dancers danced as the soft melody played. And that song... Oh, that song. She knew it. She hummed a few bars. And she sang along softly.
"On the wind...cross the sea...hear this song and remember..."
As if a switch in her mind had been flipped on, Anya gasped as the memories flooded back to her.
"Together in Paris... Oh, Grandmama, really?"
"Anastasia! Get off of... No! Young lady, come down here."
"I can run faster than you!" "No you can't, you'll fall and get hurt. You aren't allowed to run!"
"I banish you...with a curse!"
The feelings were overwhelming. She couldn't handle it at first and she dropped the box. Then she picked it up quickly, terrified she'd broken it. It was her link to home, to her past. The only thing she knew.
And she did know. Anya knew now, more than she ever had before. All the lessons Vlad and Dimitri had given her couldn't have prepared her for the feelings. Yes, she knew facts. She knew about Kropotkin, and Pushkin, and Count Anatoly and she knew Anastasia's food preferences and her wild antics. She knew about the palaces and which Czar reigned in which years.
But the feelings... Nothing could have prepared her for that. For remembering the jealousy she'd always felt that Tatiana was so beautiful and she was so plain. Or that joy she felt when her Papa would place her on his shoes and dance her around like the beautiful ladies at the ball. The fear of the curse, the hope of visiting Paris with her dearest Grandmama.
The rush of emotions, of memories, all of it caused a tightening in her stomach. She doubled over and, for the first time since Anya could remember, she sobbed. Her whole body shook, regret and fear and loneliness gripping her. For the first time she was able to mourn her family and the ten years she'd lost as the Grand Duchess Anastasia.