(no subject)
Claim: Anya
Themes: Sisters (AC3), Pain, Night, Time, Rain
Drabbles Completed: 20/30
None of these are particularly impressive, and the only one I really like is Rain, but it's been awhile since anyone posted here and my drabbles have been somewhat neglected, so I forced myself to churn out some more.
Sisters (AC3)
Anastasia ducked behind the snowman, lobbing another snowball. Mashka turned just in time to receive a faceful of wet; she darted after her little sister, mock furious. Stumbling over her own boots, Anastasia tumbled into a snowbank. Several feet away, Tatiana and Olga worked primly on their own snowman, too mature to play like babies; Alexei sat mournfully inside the gazebo. Alexandra would be furious if boisterous Anastasia played with him, but the girls…
She darted behind them, a pair of slushballs soaking her mittens; with a triumphant cry, she stuffed them down their coats and bolted for the gazebo.
Pain
The sunlight was bright behind her eyes. She opened them, once; the world was blurry. Her head throbbed, a dull ache, gentler than the white-hot pain from before. She brought a tentative hand up to the bump under her hair and winced when the touch sent a shooting dart through her skull.
She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here, or where the bump had come from. She forced herself to stand, fighting the dizziness, and looked uncomprehendingly at the slushy street. Where was she? She vaguely recalled something - a woman shouting. Her name? But what was that? She didn’t know.
Night
The darkness seemed to press on her, filling the huge, elegantly unfamiliar room. She couldn’t remember a night where she’d ever slept alone, not in her whole life. At the orphanage there had always been a dozen other children around; as a child she’d shared a room with her sister Marie. Even on their journey from Russia she’d never been alone; she’d always slept between the two men, listening to Vlad’s grunting snores on one side, Dimitri’s deep breathing and occasional mutterings on the other. Alone, she felt a new, unfamiliar fear.
Who would have thought I’d get scared now?
Time
Watching Dimitri walk away, Anya felt a curious sensation of loss. Not just loss of him, but loss of part of herself too. He was her last connection to the world she’d known for the last ten years, her last link to that part of her that had been Anya. How could that orphan stand up to the role of Anastasia, the lost Grand Duchess, without something to keep her rooted in that time? How ironic that she had been searching for her past for so long, only to find she didn’t want to lose the one she still remembered.
Rain
He didn’t know how long they stood there. Maybe it was hours. Maybe it was only a few minutes. All he knew was that he held her tightly, waiting for her shuddering sobs to subside. Her heart was pounding against his chest…or was that his?
Until he’d seen her balancing on that slippery rail, he hadn’t realised what it would mean to lose her. She wasn’t just a tool in their “brilliant” plan; somehow, he’d genuinely come to care for her.
His heart blurred with hers, the rain blurred with her tears, and his feelings rolled tumultuous as the sea.
Themes: Sisters (AC3), Pain, Night, Time, Rain
Drabbles Completed: 20/30
None of these are particularly impressive, and the only one I really like is Rain, but it's been awhile since anyone posted here and my drabbles have been somewhat neglected, so I forced myself to churn out some more.
Sisters (AC3)
Anastasia ducked behind the snowman, lobbing another snowball. Mashka turned just in time to receive a faceful of wet; she darted after her little sister, mock furious. Stumbling over her own boots, Anastasia tumbled into a snowbank. Several feet away, Tatiana and Olga worked primly on their own snowman, too mature to play like babies; Alexei sat mournfully inside the gazebo. Alexandra would be furious if boisterous Anastasia played with him, but the girls…
She darted behind them, a pair of slushballs soaking her mittens; with a triumphant cry, she stuffed them down their coats and bolted for the gazebo.
Pain
The sunlight was bright behind her eyes. She opened them, once; the world was blurry. Her head throbbed, a dull ache, gentler than the white-hot pain from before. She brought a tentative hand up to the bump under her hair and winced when the touch sent a shooting dart through her skull.
She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here, or where the bump had come from. She forced herself to stand, fighting the dizziness, and looked uncomprehendingly at the slushy street. Where was she? She vaguely recalled something - a woman shouting. Her name? But what was that? She didn’t know.
Night
The darkness seemed to press on her, filling the huge, elegantly unfamiliar room. She couldn’t remember a night where she’d ever slept alone, not in her whole life. At the orphanage there had always been a dozen other children around; as a child she’d shared a room with her sister Marie. Even on their journey from Russia she’d never been alone; she’d always slept between the two men, listening to Vlad’s grunting snores on one side, Dimitri’s deep breathing and occasional mutterings on the other. Alone, she felt a new, unfamiliar fear.
Who would have thought I’d get scared now?
Time
Watching Dimitri walk away, Anya felt a curious sensation of loss. Not just loss of him, but loss of part of herself too. He was her last connection to the world she’d known for the last ten years, her last link to that part of her that had been Anya. How could that orphan stand up to the role of Anastasia, the lost Grand Duchess, without something to keep her rooted in that time? How ironic that she had been searching for her past for so long, only to find she didn’t want to lose the one she still remembered.
Rain
He didn’t know how long they stood there. Maybe it was hours. Maybe it was only a few minutes. All he knew was that he held her tightly, waiting for her shuddering sobs to subside. Her heart was pounding against his chest…or was that his?
Until he’d seen her balancing on that slippery rail, he hadn’t realised what it would mean to lose her. She wasn’t just a tool in their “brilliant” plan; somehow, he’d genuinely come to care for her.
His heart blurred with hers, the rain blurred with her tears, and his feelings rolled tumultuous as the sea.