I Will Be Your Knight

Chapter 12

Your transition to living with Ivan wasn't as weird as you thought it would be. You have most of the north half on the second floor in his gigantic house to yourself. The Baltics brought all of your clothes and such to the house already, so there wasn't much you had to do. You have a large bedroom all to yourself, and a really nice bathroom too. Your things had been set up in both rooms when you arrived. 

Ivan had given you a tour of the place when you first got there too. The house isn't big enough for you to get lost in, but every once in a while you'll open a door, and it won't be the room you thought it was. On top of letting you stay at his house, Ivan is very protective over you. At first he wouldn't even let you carry your textbooks around. He's relaxed a bit after a few days, but he still keeps a very careful eye on you.

You manage to go back to classes right away, and your friends fill you in on what you missed the days you stayed home to recuperate. You even make it to work, but Germany has you doing mostly paperwork, or various housekeeping things at the service desk. He refuses to let you work a register.

"The last thing I need is for one of my best cashiers to be out of commission for another two weeks because she carelessly reopened her wound from doing things she shouldn't be with an injured hand," he informs you when you beg to be put on a register. You sigh in defeat. There's no arguing with Ludwig once he sets his mind to something.

A few days later you and Ivan are sitting in his front room. You're sitting in an armchair reading a novel, and he's sitting on a couch taking notes out of a textbook. There's a large fireplace in the room, and Ivan has a roaring fire going in it to keep the two of you warm. It's been about a week since the incident with Belarus, and your hand has been steadily recovering.

You place your bookmark between the pages of your book, and set it down on the small table between your chair and the couch. You get up out of the chair and walk to the fireplace. Ivan doesn't look up from his notes, but you know he's aware of your movements. Nothing ever gets past the keen Russian. You watch the fire for a while, memorized by the dancing flames. You tend to get restless very easily lately because of the physical limitations caused by having only one properly working hand, so you walk around the room looking at various objects.

You pause at the bookshelf next to the fireplace to read the different titles. You've looked at it at least a hundred times, but you don't really have much else to do. You move back to the fireplace and notice something on the mantle. There are three Russian nesting dolls sitting in a row, but they look different than ones you've seen before.

"Ivan?" He looks up. "What are these?" you ask pointing.

"Matryoshka dolls," he says.

"Matryoshka," you repeat to yourself. You've never heard them called by their Russian name. "Why do they look so...different?" you ask not being able to come up with a better way to describe them. 

Ivan closes his textbook and rises from the couch to join you at the mantle. "They're modeled after me and my sisters," he informs you. "This one is Katyusha," he says pointing at the largest. "This one is me, and this one," he points at the smallest doll, "is Natalya."

You look closely at each doll. Ivan's oldest sister's doll has a big smile on its face. She has short blonde hair, which is held back with hair clips. She's wearing something that slightly resembles overalls. You also can't help but notice she has a large bust. In her small hands she's holding a pitchfork. Upon closer inspection, you realize all of the dolls have been hand painted. What amazing detail, you think.

Your attention moves to the next smallest doll in the line. You marvel at just how much it looks like Ivan. His doll is wearing the exact same trench coat and scarf that Ivan often has on. The doll also has the same piercing purple eyes as the real thing. A bright yellow sunflower has been painted in this doll's hands.