Different Memories

Memories

The hotel in Budapest, Jun 1998
Memories rushed through her. Of her parents, her mother singing to her. Their death. Her own rescue by the very man that had just fought her, then more of a boy. Of that man sparing with her, kissing her. How she was ripped from his arms and pulled away, kicking and screaming in desperate fear. Him, trying to reach her, his name leaving her lips in panic when he's shot, just like her parents were. And suddenl she remembered everything.
With a scream she fell to her knees, unable to support her weight any longer. He went down with her, holding her. Supporting her. Violent sobbs shook her with nothing she could do against it. It all came back down upon her. So much to much for her to maintain her cold demeanor.

The hotel in Budapest, Jun 1998
When he looked into her eyes, her so beautiful eyes again, holding her sobbing body, he could see it. She was back, his Natalia. "Sh, sh" the archer gave hgis best to sooth her, just holding her in his arms until exhaustion called in it's tribute and she fell asleep in his arms. Gently he picked her up, carrying her over to his own hotel room, tucking her into bed there and watching over her sleep. For the first time since he failed her he allowed himself to dive into his memories.

A suburb of New York City, Aug 1950
The peaceful silence of the night is violently broken by the sound of a man kicking in a door. Dark, masked figures flow into the small house, distrubing the young couples formerly quiet sleep. In a split second the two are awake, weapons in hand. But there is no chance. There are to many. They pull the girl from his arms, she kicks and screams but they care less. Once they have the girl one pulls out a gun and shoots the man, turning the girls screams into desperate sobbs.

Russian Ballett Performance, New York City, 1943
"Congratulations my love" the young man tells the girl in his arms softly quickly kissing her. Then he releases her so she can accept all the flower bouquets and congratulations for her exceptional performance of the two swans in Tschaikowskys Swan Lake. A relatively small bouquet but very warm gratulations come from a weedy boy. His friend is obviously in the army, as he wears his uniform. The man doesn't like the glances the soldier casts the ballerina. Protectively he takes a step closer to her, as if warning to have nothing but sincere intentions. "Come on Princess, gotta head home." he whispered into in her ear. She nodds. "Alright, I'll just tell the others good-bye!" With a smile she all but flys away so graceful are her motions. The man follows her swiftly. It's his task to protect her. The last princess of Russia. Daughter to Anastasia Romanova and her husband. And even so much more...