Painful Goodbyes
Afternoon,
June 2, 1868
Wales
Alexi bent over the welding assembly, joisting the plates together for a water-tight seal for the hull of the train-cum Chinese junk. Sweat poured from him, his shirt tossed aside in the grass at feet. Several of the crew swore and cursed under their breath; "Why now is this a boat, if the island has gone under again already?" Alexi ignored the griping. His English friends had requested a boat; a boat they would have, different then the trireme, even if the materials were less promising.
Silent as a cat, Ilga walked up, finishing up her patrol. The pixies had relented as promised and there seemed to be no representatives of the erstwhile Lord who had approved of marauding villains to collect his taxes. Kneeling down, she settled beside Alexi, letting the mask of her face settle into a rare,fond smile that few were allowed to see. "So, mayo darogoyo boy, how goes the boat?"
Alexi set down the torch, and wiped the grime and sweat from his face with the back of his arm. "I might need horsewhips for the men; I agree, why now would we need a boat? We have been to the island, and back. But Russia shall not be embarrassed by my efforts. English want a boat, I shall give them a boat." He gave a vulpine grin. "Besides, I think it excites the little swan when I come into her with the sweat of a commoner on me! " He ducked, to avoid the arm punch the older Eldren guard inevitably gave him when he talked naughty in front of her.
She swung at him half-heartedly. "I am old enough to be your mama!" she pronounced, the dance a familiar one between them. "I do not want to hear such things." After a moment, she tilted her head. "She is a remarkable girl. I will be able to attest honestly, when your grandmother questions me, that she is truly a princess."
Alexi smiled and unflinched, getting away with something this time. "Yes. It seems she is the finest woman in all the world. She has a heart as big as all of Russia; smart, gracefull, talented. She is the best woman. She is what I deserve," he said with an air of finality. "You speak true. She is a princess, and deserves me."
The warrior woman managed not to laugh, instead biting her lip and grinning. "You are still the most spoiled of children. If, in time, you set her aside, be kind." She reached over to stroke a sodden lock of red hair from where it was sticking to his cheek. "You might find that the kitten still has claws if you are not." Sighing, her face became serious. "It is time for me to go home Alexi."
Alexi smiled at her, and arched his face towards her grooming. "Yes. We must go to St. Petersburg, and show everyone the woman who I have won. We will have gram's guards, so you can go visit that farmer for a few months." He turned, and pushed his back against Ilga's nails for her to scratch an itchy spot. "When the snows melt, we must go to America, I think. The democracy there amuses me, and I think will charm Evie, do you not?"
"No doubt," she assented, scratching him absently. When he pulled from her, she was silent for a moment as he began to work on the boat again. Finally, she took a breath and announced, "Malyutka, I mean forever."
Over his shoulder, Alexi gave his most assuring affirmation. "Oh, yes. After her, there will be no other lover. She... she has become as I am, and not for fear of death, but love of Alexi." He laughed, and swatted at the sparks dancing from the metal. "There will be other women yet she will be always in my heart, and very often in my bed, for centuries to come, no fear!"
The Eldren warrior merely shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Alexi! " she barked in frustration. "I am going home and I am not coming back. I will not go to America with you. I am going home, my pretty, pretty boy. Please listen to me."
Alexi stiffened, and dropped the welding torch, singing his pant leg and burning his left thigh in the process. Stepping away from the flames, letting the grass ignite, he stood, ram rod straight, his back turned to the hussar crouched behind him. "Forever? Never? You... you presume that I MUST listen? I am a PRINCE, boyar's slut. When I speak, the rivers part that I might cross, church men cross themselves and pray the words do not damn them, and the peasants fall face first to the ground before hearing my command, then leap up to do as I desire! I do not be the one who listens!" He inhaled deeply, and turned to face her. Alexi's normally handsome face was contorted into a mask of rage. "Listen then, and obey." He nearly screamed, making his command so loud even the sleepers could hear. "Hussar, I dismiss you from my servce with but one more command! Leave tonight, to Russia. Report to my grandmother that I have dismissed you. Inform her that you are to receive no bonus; you have taken far more then enough, have you not. Let her know I return for Christmas, to bring my bride, and receive her blessing. Should she bless you, refuse; Alexi will have her blessing, not a farmer's bitch. Go. Do not show your face. I will make do with Svetlana. You have displeased us. Do not show yourself to us again." Leaving the burning torch on the ground, he ran for the cliff face, and leapt again towards the still cold waters of the Irish Sea. "I feel unclean. I return when I return. This is what must be listened to!"
Ilga followed him, moving with uncanny speed to make it to the cliff to watch to make certain that the young man didn't drown. She watched, hidden among the rocks, unseen, her face still, her blue eyes calm. The prince had taken it as well as she had expected. He was the child of her heart and she had to admit, she was the mother of his. She had been his guardian since he was ten, the stoic caretaker who had helped him grow up from a heartbroken, insecure, lonely orphan to the beautiful man he was today. She had expected the tirade, the hurt feelings. Alexi Kalashnikov was still insecure, still much the little boy. He had lost his parents; she knew he felt that she was abandoning him too. Shrugging inwardly, she made herself comfortable to watch Alexi swim. She would not leave him, would make certain that he came back safe and sound to his young wife. If he got in trouble, then she would get him and suffer the consequences of his having seen her face. Alexi was her first son, her son not borne of her body and she loved him with all the fierceness of her soul. Nonetheless, she knew now that it was time to pass the light that was her boy to the proud, lovely girl who had given much up for him.
Even if Alexi didn't know it.
Alexi landed in the water, and splashed fitfully. The sound of his sobbing could be heard on the shore. He breathed deeply, exhaled, emptying his lungs. Closing his eyes, he let the water close over his head, his body sinking like a stone.
Leaning forward, her eyes narrowing, Ilga began to count. If he didn't surface. . .
The Eldren's silent count hit two minutes as she coiled like a springing cat, her heart beginning to beat faster. "Chert!" The invective left her lips as she launched into the water at the point where his red head had sunk. Opening her eyes, she tried to peer through the murky waters, the salt burning as she forced her way down with strong strokes.
Alexi settled on the rocky bottom, losing conciousness until he felt the familiar strong grasp, pulling him to the surface. Breaking the water, he gasped for air, his head pounding. Salt stung his eyes, and he felt the cold; so much cold. "Mama? Am I there?" he said, then vomited sea water.
Ilga pulled him ashore, cursing him fluidly, laying him on a flat rock and using her soaked jacket sleeve to wipe his face tenderly as he retched and coughed out the water. "Stupid, spoiled, selfish, rotten boy!!" she shouted in Russian, stroking his face. "You would kill yourself in a fit of pique?!" Another fluid stream of invective flowed from her perfect lips. "How dare you! How dare you try to take your life! You are mine, my son of my heart AND I, I Ilga will tell YOU when you can kill yourself!" She clenched her fists impotently and then grabbed him, clutching him to her fiercely with a muffled sob.
"You may dismiss me as you will, but I will protect you until we return home. You will not do this again."
Alexi sat up, he clutched weakly at Ilga's jacket. "Why do you break my heart, little mama? I... am finally happy, and you HATE me!" He cried, clinging tightly to the only mother he'd ever known. "Alexi will be good! You miss your man and the child, Alexi knows this, and understands. We will take them with us!" Smiling through the tears, he pulls back, staring into Ilga's familiar and comforting face. "You will not have to be a guard! I will get MORE guards! A pair for me, a pair for your little boy! We will travel, and Alexi will teach to him the secrets of steam, ok? Never leave me!" he bargained, making his most winsome puppy dog eyes.
Ilga shook her head gently. "Nyet, malchik. Time for you to grow up. You are a husband now. You don't need me."
Alexi's eyes unfocused, his body relaxing in Ilga's arms, as his hands turned blue with an eerie nimbus. He lifted his right hand, slowly reaching for the hussar's cheek. The static sparked between her high cheekbones and his rough, callused fingetips. Staring blindly off into the sky, Alexi read her, and let the tears roll down his face unashamedly. As the blue fire flared, then extinguished, he let his hand drop to his lap.
"Da,” he mouthed breathlessly. "You must go home."
Tears like crystals began to leak from her blue eyes and she gathered her charge close in her arms and rocked with him as the sea crashed below them. "My heart is breaking. I would bring you with me, sweet boy, but I cannot deprive the world of you. So I must let you go. To be with someone who will take the world by storm with you." She sighed softly, mournfully.
"I will go tomorrow if you wish it." Ilga pulled free and smiled wanly, although her next words were firm. "I won't go far. I will see you back home. Even if you do not see me. So we go back now and let your little swan dry you off, da?" She kissed his forehead tenderly as he nodded and gathered him to her bosom again. "I love you forever, Alexi, my beautiful boy. Like I promised. But you must spread your wings and fly with your swan. Make me proud, malchik. Make me proud."
Since any campaign is a collaborative effort, Journal and RP entries by our other players can be read here.
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