Blood and Water [War and Peace BBC Story]

Nine

               "This is preposterous!" came the sharp voice of Nikolai as he burst through the doors, unaided by a footman.

His anger was unparalleled at his mother's request, but there was something about Anastasya's demeanor that made him curious. She stood at the window, her arms close to her body and her fingers picking at the skin on her lip. Ana wished he hadn't arrived in such a rush, for she was preparing to write him a letter of the grave news, but he had taken it upon himself to call on her first.

"What?" she turned slowly, her eyes slightly wide in surprise.

"My mother..." he trailed off, seeing the way her eyes danced to the side, trying to focus. She had been odd in the last six months without Andrei, disappearing for weeks at a time with no word as to where she was going or whom with. Nikolai could barely continue, "She wants me to marry Julie...what's on your mind?"

"My cousin is dead. Alexei's last wishes entailed that if something were to happen, the girl was to come live with me," Anastasya furrowed her brow.

"Our...daughter?" Nikolai stammered.

"She's on her way now," Ana nodded, "She doesn't know and I have this terrible feeling that if I don't tell her now, she will never find it in her heart to forgive me, but...I have this even worse feeling that when people find out, it will change everything."

"With Andrei," the blonde man guessed.

He looked down and she pressed her hands against her cheeks, her voice strained as she sighed, "I'm not going to see my family for Christmas, but now...it'll be so lonely if I don't."

"Would you like me to stay for the holidays?" Nikolai offered.

Anastasya would never admit it, but it felt as if Nikolai's presence would make the experience a bit easier. And so, she accepted his offer bashfully and the servants hurried to begin decorating, for she wished it to be completed before their daughter was to arrive. It was so horribly domestic it made her want to laugh, but it meant so much to Nikolai that she was allowing him to do such a thing. They took the task of decorating some things themselves and as they dressed the tree, a pair of little thumping feet came down the hallway and appeared.

"Ana!" cried the little girl, seeming sorely unaware of her most recent loss, for she had always called Anastasya 'Mama', just as she had Natalia.

Deep down, Ana knew that she knew and she would not have to tell her explicitly, but she could not help but see how much she looked like Nikolai when her eyes were alight. The father of the small child felt as if his whole life he had been waiting on this one child; it was suddenly as if he knew why he needed the things that he did to feel complete.

"Hello my lovely," Ana greeted, never having looked brighter. She lifted the girl of eight years old into her arms and spun her around, then brought her forth to meet Nikolai, "Nicolette, this is Nikolai, I've known him for many years."