2
:: October 1, 1924 ::
:: Edinburgh, Scotland ::
The White Council’s headquarters were abnormally quiet that morning, despite the number of wizards roaming about in the hallways and side rooms. The high walls and the gurgling fountains drowned out hushed conversations, and she wouldn’t have had it any other way as she snuck around the grandiose halls. She looked as if she had snuck off some fabulous European magazine, her reddish-blonde hair chopped into a curly bob, two waist-length strands of brightly-polish pearls bobbing against the green silk of her dress as she snuck silently through the halls.
Anastasia Romanov was not a wizard by any means, but some of the disgruntled Wardens who were the victims of her mischievous pranks that still ran over from her teenage years could have sworn that she was in league with the Outsiders. It was already a major disruption that a mortal gifted with no extraordinary gifts always wandered around the headquarters - but no one had ever really told her why she had been brought into this mysterious world of fantastical creatures and humans until she had turned twenty.
Only then had continuous snooping brought her some unsatisfactory answers from Wardens who believed she had already known why she had been spared that night when she had lost her entire family. Even now, as she snuck lemon-frosted truffles and tiny petits fours, teasing some of the more stringent Wardens who only glowered at this once-in-a-lifetime exception, did she wonder if her life had really been worth it. She had heard of people claiming to be her in the years following her escape, but the real Anastasia, thanks to the quick thinking of people she had never seen again, had disappeared.
Perhaps it was for the better, she thought as she darted up some of the staircases, chewing on one of the truffles and nearly running into Morgan who only growled at her to watch where she was going. Anastasia ignored him as she usually did, continuing her run through the halls until she came to the room she was looking for: A grandiose library filled with books dating all the way back to the original Merlin’s day, some select texts going back even farther (at least she thought so - even being the apparent darling of the Summer Queen wouldn’t allow her access to the Merlin’s personal library). True, life in these endless chambers could be dreadfully dull since so few people were willing to talk to her, but there were some she could count on to hold a lively conversation.
She was about to enter into the main library, but stopped when she heard voices conversing quietly just beyond the great doors. She had believed she was meeting her friend here alone so he could let her loose in the real world for awhile - maybe she had gotten the times wrong.
Frowning miserably that she’d have to wait for another hour or more, she was about to leave when she heard her name and the telltale baritone of her friend’s voice just over the scratchy recording of Mahler’s Symphony No. 5. Biting her lip in mischievous curiosity, the young woman ducked just behind the door, pressing her ear to it to hear the conversation better.
“...believe that Anastasia is the key to all of this?”
A heavy moment of silence. Then another voice spoke, a deep, musical baritone that caused Anastasia to blush and for her breath to hitch. “My Queen’s reason for saving her was to prevent Winter from disrupting the balance.”
“And that’s all you’re doing to tell us, isn’t it?” her friend grumbled.
“Rasputin’s influence over the late empress was regrettable,” came the flat reply. “If the entire family had been slaughtered that night so close to the summer solstice because of a curse from the Unseelie Court...” He trailed off, leaving the other man to his own thoughts. Anastasia felt a sickening pain in her chest at the mention of her family - she still often awoke in a cold sweat from claustrophobic nightmares of screams and smoke and gunshots and blood, but to hear that perhaps Rasputin, that holy man that had served so close to the family for years, was possibly behind it...
“Everything that happened seven years ago was another attempt to continue the Great War. I’m surprised her plot didn’t work - she has never underestimated the psychology of people so greatly.” This voice wasn’t familiar at all either - she could honestly say that she had never heard this person, so distinctly American, in the headquarters of her seven-year asylum. “The distractions did not help either, unfortunately.”
“You mean that fool Mussolini?”
“There are...other problems,” the other man said wearily. Anastasia leaned forward to peer through the keyhole, grumbling darkly that her view was so obstructed, only able to see the far eastern portion of the library. She could see her friend Ebenezar pacing back and forth in front of the library’s ostentatiously large fireplace, his bald scalp reflecting the dancing red-gold light of the flames. Another man sat with his back to the door, hunched over, elbows on knees, his wool coat slung over the back of the tall armchair. The only distinguishing feature she could make out were tufts of gray hair, and she couldn’t recall anyone who quite fit that description.
“Germany?”
“I sense her hand in that too,” the sitting man said. “If the mortal world can be distracted into another war, there will be no stopping the forces of magical darkness from overwhelming them.” Ebenezar stopped pacing over by the fireplace, and Anastasia resisted the urge to duck as his gaze settled in his general direction. Instead, she just recoiled slightly, berated herself for her fear, and then leaned forward again to see he had turned his attention back to the man sitting in the chair, a dark look on his face.
“Why haven’t you brought this to the attention of the Senior Council?”
“You think he hasn’t? How many times have we tried just for our presented proof to be struck down? And for what reason - because we rely on the help of humans. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Einstein or Mr. Wells’s research, we wouldn’t have even begun to contemplate that she was still alive.” Ebenezar began pacing again, and, as the man turned slightly in his seat to follow his progress, Anastasia could finally see his profile - a paternal-looking man with a dark mustache nearly as fluffy as his hair. “They are a force to be reckoned with, my friend. They are not as blind as some members of the Senior Council think - these men and women are dedicated to keeping the worlds safe.”
Ebenezar rubbed at his head, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in frustrated annoyance. “It ain’t that simple anymore.” The man nodded.
“I know. She is too subtle - none of these events could possibly link back to her. It all seems...” he sighed, “...quite futile.”
Anastasia had no idea what they were talking about, and her legs were starting to cramp from being crouched over for so long. She readjusted her weight to get her blood pumping again, but doing so caused her to stumble against the heavy ornate door. She froze instinctively, biting her lip and hoping the two men hadn’t heard her - while she was known for eavesdropping and the worst particular moments, she had a feeling that for once, her pastime could truly be more trouble than she had anticipated.
After a few tense and breathless moments, Anastasia let out a sigh of relief and knelt back down to resume spying.
The door swung open.
“What are you doing here, lass?”
Jumping to her feet, Anastasia had the decency to look a little bit embarrassed, her cheeks flushing just slightly at having been caught. But then the Romanov stubbornness quickly reared its head and she jutted her chin forward, hands clenching at her fists as she stared across at Ebenezar and firmly stated, “We are supposed to go to the real world today, Mister McCoy.”
Ebenezar scowled, crossing his arms and looking quite ready to berate the girl when one of the men from before chuckled, “Let her be, Ebenezar.” She peered over the Scot’s shoulder to one of the men who had been talking earlier - it was so strange that she had never seen him before in the past seven years. She suspected he was a wizard too, and she thought all wizards had to come to Edinburgh eventually. The other man in the room was still standing by the fair place, and possessed an inhuman beauty - flaxen blond hair worn long and loose, green eyes with catlike slits the color of the brightest emeralds, and wearing strange clothing in various shades of green...and he was intently staring at her. Anastasia felt her face flame and she quickly turned her gaze back to Ebenezar and the other nameless man.
“I heard you talking about my family...” she finally murmured with a shrug, the fight seeping out of her. She noticed Ebenezar tense slightly before he let out a sigh, reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Both of them were silent for a few uncomfortable moments before she finally added, “Rasputin was the reason behind it?”
The nameless handsome man coughed pointedly and Anastasia resisted lifting her eyes to peer at his beauty. “I believe that our discussion is over?” The other man nodded as he himself picked up his coat and began slipping it on. “Yes, Lysander." Anastasia blinked - Lysander? "Thank your Queen and your Lady for the information. We will attempt to act faster in the future, if he has any say about it.”
Ebenezar snorted, as if to show how much faith he put into those words. When Anastasia looked over his shoulder again, both men had simply vanished even though she was positively sure that the only door was the one that she was standing in with the older man.
Obviously her face was full of questions because Ebenezar just shook his head, a sad smile on his face and this time, he put both hands on her shoulders. “I suppose if I asked you to forget about what you heard and saw...?”
“I wouldn’t do it. Who were those men?” Ebenezar studied her face for a very long time, and she began to worry that he was simply going to do some magic and make her forget. But something in his face shifted slightly, obviously having found something in her that pleased him.
“They are part of a coalition that has been at work for the better part of this century so far. Whether or not there’s any basis for their wild goose chase...” He trailed off and shook his head. “Better not to worry about it.”
Anastasia scowled back at him. “If it has to do with my family and why I was saved that night, then yes - I am going to worry about it. Tell me, Ebenezar - I demand you.”
“You are not a Grand Duchess anymore.”
Her eyes sparked with fury. “My great-grandmother was the queen of England. My father and my mother were the tsar and tsarina of Imperial Russia for decades. I am the last living successor to the Russian crown. Royal blood flows through my veins - do not tell me I no longer possess what is naturally mine. You are my friend, Ebenezar McCoy, and you will tell me why all of this has happened, why my life matters so much to Queen Titania. What are they trying to prevent?”
He was very silent, glowering at her from beneath heavy eyebrows as she finished her tirade, but Anastasia refused to be quelled anymore. She had spent seven years in silence, and now, with answers so close, she was not about to let them slip through her hands.
When he finally did reply, it was not the answer she had been expecting nor the answer she wanted.
“Hurry up and change, lass. It's cold in Chicago this time of year."
:: Edinburgh, Scotland ::
The White Council’s headquarters were abnormally quiet that morning, despite the number of wizards roaming about in the hallways and side rooms. The high walls and the gurgling fountains drowned out hushed conversations, and she wouldn’t have had it any other way as she snuck around the grandiose halls. She looked as if she had snuck off some fabulous European magazine, her reddish-blonde hair chopped into a curly bob, two waist-length strands of brightly-polish pearls bobbing against the green silk of her dress as she snuck silently through the halls.
Anastasia Romanov was not a wizard by any means, but some of the disgruntled Wardens who were the victims of her mischievous pranks that still ran over from her teenage years could have sworn that she was in league with the Outsiders. It was already a major disruption that a mortal gifted with no extraordinary gifts always wandered around the headquarters - but no one had ever really told her why she had been brought into this mysterious world of fantastical creatures and humans until she had turned twenty.
Only then had continuous snooping brought her some unsatisfactory answers from Wardens who believed she had already known why she had been spared that night when she had lost her entire family. Even now, as she snuck lemon-frosted truffles and tiny petits fours, teasing some of the more stringent Wardens who only glowered at this once-in-a-lifetime exception, did she wonder if her life had really been worth it. She had heard of people claiming to be her in the years following her escape, but the real Anastasia, thanks to the quick thinking of people she had never seen again, had disappeared.
Perhaps it was for the better, she thought as she darted up some of the staircases, chewing on one of the truffles and nearly running into Morgan who only growled at her to watch where she was going. Anastasia ignored him as she usually did, continuing her run through the halls until she came to the room she was looking for: A grandiose library filled with books dating all the way back to the original Merlin’s day, some select texts going back even farther (at least she thought so - even being the apparent darling of the Summer Queen wouldn’t allow her access to the Merlin’s personal library). True, life in these endless chambers could be dreadfully dull since so few people were willing to talk to her, but there were some she could count on to hold a lively conversation.
She was about to enter into the main library, but stopped when she heard voices conversing quietly just beyond the great doors. She had believed she was meeting her friend here alone so he could let her loose in the real world for awhile - maybe she had gotten the times wrong.
Frowning miserably that she’d have to wait for another hour or more, she was about to leave when she heard her name and the telltale baritone of her friend’s voice just over the scratchy recording of Mahler’s Symphony No. 5. Biting her lip in mischievous curiosity, the young woman ducked just behind the door, pressing her ear to it to hear the conversation better.
“...believe that Anastasia is the key to all of this?”
A heavy moment of silence. Then another voice spoke, a deep, musical baritone that caused Anastasia to blush and for her breath to hitch. “My Queen’s reason for saving her was to prevent Winter from disrupting the balance.”
“And that’s all you’re doing to tell us, isn’t it?” her friend grumbled.
“Rasputin’s influence over the late empress was regrettable,” came the flat reply. “If the entire family had been slaughtered that night so close to the summer solstice because of a curse from the Unseelie Court...” He trailed off, leaving the other man to his own thoughts. Anastasia felt a sickening pain in her chest at the mention of her family - she still often awoke in a cold sweat from claustrophobic nightmares of screams and smoke and gunshots and blood, but to hear that perhaps Rasputin, that holy man that had served so close to the family for years, was possibly behind it...
“Everything that happened seven years ago was another attempt to continue the Great War. I’m surprised her plot didn’t work - she has never underestimated the psychology of people so greatly.” This voice wasn’t familiar at all either - she could honestly say that she had never heard this person, so distinctly American, in the headquarters of her seven-year asylum. “The distractions did not help either, unfortunately.”
“You mean that fool Mussolini?”
“There are...other problems,” the other man said wearily. Anastasia leaned forward to peer through the keyhole, grumbling darkly that her view was so obstructed, only able to see the far eastern portion of the library. She could see her friend Ebenezar pacing back and forth in front of the library’s ostentatiously large fireplace, his bald scalp reflecting the dancing red-gold light of the flames. Another man sat with his back to the door, hunched over, elbows on knees, his wool coat slung over the back of the tall armchair. The only distinguishing feature she could make out were tufts of gray hair, and she couldn’t recall anyone who quite fit that description.
“Germany?”
“I sense her hand in that too,” the sitting man said. “If the mortal world can be distracted into another war, there will be no stopping the forces of magical darkness from overwhelming them.” Ebenezar stopped pacing over by the fireplace, and Anastasia resisted the urge to duck as his gaze settled in his general direction. Instead, she just recoiled slightly, berated herself for her fear, and then leaned forward again to see he had turned his attention back to the man sitting in the chair, a dark look on his face.
“Why haven’t you brought this to the attention of the Senior Council?”
“You think he hasn’t? How many times have we tried just for our presented proof to be struck down? And for what reason - because we rely on the help of humans. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Einstein or Mr. Wells’s research, we wouldn’t have even begun to contemplate that she was still alive.” Ebenezar began pacing again, and, as the man turned slightly in his seat to follow his progress, Anastasia could finally see his profile - a paternal-looking man with a dark mustache nearly as fluffy as his hair. “They are a force to be reckoned with, my friend. They are not as blind as some members of the Senior Council think - these men and women are dedicated to keeping the worlds safe.”
Ebenezar rubbed at his head, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in frustrated annoyance. “It ain’t that simple anymore.” The man nodded.
“I know. She is too subtle - none of these events could possibly link back to her. It all seems...” he sighed, “...quite futile.”
Anastasia had no idea what they were talking about, and her legs were starting to cramp from being crouched over for so long. She readjusted her weight to get her blood pumping again, but doing so caused her to stumble against the heavy ornate door. She froze instinctively, biting her lip and hoping the two men hadn’t heard her - while she was known for eavesdropping and the worst particular moments, she had a feeling that for once, her pastime could truly be more trouble than she had anticipated.
After a few tense and breathless moments, Anastasia let out a sigh of relief and knelt back down to resume spying.
The door swung open.
“What are you doing here, lass?”
Jumping to her feet, Anastasia had the decency to look a little bit embarrassed, her cheeks flushing just slightly at having been caught. But then the Romanov stubbornness quickly reared its head and she jutted her chin forward, hands clenching at her fists as she stared across at Ebenezar and firmly stated, “We are supposed to go to the real world today, Mister McCoy.”
Ebenezar scowled, crossing his arms and looking quite ready to berate the girl when one of the men from before chuckled, “Let her be, Ebenezar.” She peered over the Scot’s shoulder to one of the men who had been talking earlier - it was so strange that she had never seen him before in the past seven years. She suspected he was a wizard too, and she thought all wizards had to come to Edinburgh eventually. The other man in the room was still standing by the fair place, and possessed an inhuman beauty - flaxen blond hair worn long and loose, green eyes with catlike slits the color of the brightest emeralds, and wearing strange clothing in various shades of green...and he was intently staring at her. Anastasia felt her face flame and she quickly turned her gaze back to Ebenezar and the other nameless man.
“I heard you talking about my family...” she finally murmured with a shrug, the fight seeping out of her. She noticed Ebenezar tense slightly before he let out a sigh, reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Both of them were silent for a few uncomfortable moments before she finally added, “Rasputin was the reason behind it?”
The nameless handsome man coughed pointedly and Anastasia resisted lifting her eyes to peer at his beauty. “I believe that our discussion is over?” The other man nodded as he himself picked up his coat and began slipping it on. “Yes, Lysander." Anastasia blinked - Lysander? "Thank your Queen and your Lady for the information. We will attempt to act faster in the future, if he has any say about it.”
Ebenezar snorted, as if to show how much faith he put into those words. When Anastasia looked over his shoulder again, both men had simply vanished even though she was positively sure that the only door was the one that she was standing in with the older man.
Obviously her face was full of questions because Ebenezar just shook his head, a sad smile on his face and this time, he put both hands on her shoulders. “I suppose if I asked you to forget about what you heard and saw...?”
“I wouldn’t do it. Who were those men?” Ebenezar studied her face for a very long time, and she began to worry that he was simply going to do some magic and make her forget. But something in his face shifted slightly, obviously having found something in her that pleased him.
“They are part of a coalition that has been at work for the better part of this century so far. Whether or not there’s any basis for their wild goose chase...” He trailed off and shook his head. “Better not to worry about it.”
Anastasia scowled back at him. “If it has to do with my family and why I was saved that night, then yes - I am going to worry about it. Tell me, Ebenezar - I demand you.”
“You are not a Grand Duchess anymore.”
Her eyes sparked with fury. “My great-grandmother was the queen of England. My father and my mother were the tsar and tsarina of Imperial Russia for decades. I am the last living successor to the Russian crown. Royal blood flows through my veins - do not tell me I no longer possess what is naturally mine. You are my friend, Ebenezar McCoy, and you will tell me why all of this has happened, why my life matters so much to Queen Titania. What are they trying to prevent?”
He was very silent, glowering at her from beneath heavy eyebrows as she finished her tirade, but Anastasia refused to be quelled anymore. She had spent seven years in silence, and now, with answers so close, she was not about to let them slip through her hands.
When he finally did reply, it was not the answer she had been expecting nor the answer she wanted.
“Hurry up and change, lass. It's cold in Chicago this time of year."