Of 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙨 & 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙨 (𝘿𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙧𝙞) - Anastasia Prequel

два (two)

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"Another squealing, stinking thief boy, eh?" The police captain had a fat cigar pressed between his thwarting lips, his beady eyes staring Dimitri down. He could almost imagine how dumb he looked, being held down by two officers in the middle of the square, the snow piling at his feet. Dimitri's unruly hair covered his face from view as he knelt in the cold, waiting for his life to end right before his eyes.

He wasn't sorry; he was just sorry he got caught.

The captain chuckled as he let out an exhale of smoke, the stench getting lost in the snowy wind. Dimitri was glad, for the smell of cigars was revolting and all too familiar. The cheese merchant glared at the boy, his hands on his hips like a mother who just caught her delinquent son taking a swig of his father's beer.

His stomach sank with not simply hunger but dread... he wasn't going to come out of this unscathed.

He shook his head in defiance, for no one would miss him if he were to be locked up or sent somewhere far away... no one knew him apart from his fraudulence.

"I want this boy punished. I want consequences for his actions!" The overcoat of the cheese merchant rippled in the gale as he pointed to his cart. "One more minute alone, and that Kostromskoy would have been gobbled up by his greedy little mouth!"

Dimitri struggled under the officer's sweaty grips. "I didn't even have the chance to take one bite, you svo-lach-!"

Shouldn't have spoken, idiot. A hand was firmly placed over his mouth, muffling his frantic yells.
Every swear he could think of rushed through Dimitri's mind. Der'mo, grebanyye idioty, chertovski ad!...

"What's happening here, ofitser?"

Dimitri raised his head, alarmed by the sudden interference.
A foreign voice, a man's voice...

The burly captain grunted, casting aside his cigar with a swift flick of his wrist.
"Em, nothing of your concern, nothing of your concern. Just another one of those good for nothing boy burglars." As the chubby captain waved his hand in the air, he gave a curt nod to the officers that were holding Dimitri down. They struggled to stand, as Dimitri was attempting to kick them both in the shins. Maybe there was still a possibility of escaping while they were distracted...

Too late. An officer with a bristly mustache and a strong vodka smelling breath was able to steady himself and kick Dimitri back... his ankle was definitely going to bruise.

The unknown man's face could be clearly seen by Dimitri as he gritted his teeth in defeat.
He had a round, pudgy face and thin wire spectacles on the tip of his nose. He looked uncomfortably concerned...

"Officers, you can't take him. This boy is my nephew." The man was completely serious, his eyebrows knitted together firmly.

Dimitri could only gape. What in the devil was this man trying to do...?

The captain looked as if he had seen a ghost... a scary one at that.
"Sir, your nephew stole from this here merchant, he attempted robbery and resisted arrest, two very serious crimes under the Imperial Russian Code-"

The spectacled man cut him off, and with a shake of his head, grabbed Dimitri's arm. "I'll deal with the situation from here, good ofitsers. Thank you for taking care of my nephew... what a fright he has in his eyes!"

Dimitri, knowing the wisest thing to do was play along with the charade, followed the man, though that particular comment made him angry...

He wasn't scared, he was only a bit startled....

Processing his luck, he didn't dare look back at the officers or the crowd. He massaged his stung arms, the bitter cold going right through him.

After some time of wandering aimlessly through the street, the man whispered "They're gone." Finally Dimitri could ask him who the hell he was. The pair found shelter under a paved rooftop of a random, seemingly abandoned shop.

"What are you doing? Why did you help me?" He kept his voice low.
The man only smiled. "Why not? Aren't you glad you're out of their tight grips?"

"Well, yeah, I am... but I still don't understand." The boy had a look of spite on his face. He wasn't some weak, sickly orphan who needed saving. "I could have handled them on my own... I didn't need your help... I've been caught by those goons too many times to count... I can do this on my own!"

"Can you? Well, if that's the case, I'll be on my way." He adjusted his spectacles and sighed, almost as if he had been expecting that kind of response.

A part of Dimitri didn't want the man to leave, but that was what people did, right? People left poor orphans to fend for their dirty selves... it wasn't like he wanted someone to chaperone him- that would be the fowlest thing to ever happen to him.

What did this man want from him? There must have been a purpose in his actions... there had to be.

The man broke the silence before Dimitri had the chance to do more than shuffle his feet in indecisiveness and stubbornness.

"Before I go... Vlad is the name. And I believe you can help me."