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It had been almost a decade ago, when he’d been given Dasha for his tenth birthday.
He remembered the party itself vividly. Sitting by himself, he watched the people dance on the main floor, lively music echoing through the chamber. His aunts and uncles milled about with the many denizens of high society that had been invited out of politeness, his father and папа making their way through the crowd, a chorus of greetings following them. The chatter of the crowd was loud, too loud, it made his head hurt. He didn’t like big parties. His father loved them, and while his папа despised them, he didn’t have the nerve to stand up to Pantalone. Not to mention that it meant he got to see Pantalone all dressed up… His папа was a weak man. Especially to his baba’s teasing.
Either way, he didn’t like it. All the rich people were only here to suck up to his baba, which was fine. His baba knew, he was sure, and probably invited them on purpose to suck the money out of them. But it felt weird, having people watch him like that. It reminded him of school, too many eyes and loud mouths.
It didn’t feel special, with all these people here.
“I don’t understand why they would fucking invite the entirety of high society to the kid’s party. That’s fucking vile, even for them.” The snarl nearby was definitely his aunt’s, accompanied by Columbina on her arm. Anastasiy looked up from where he sat, his aunt’s expression softening the slightest bit, a serene smile on Columbina’s face as he leaned against Arlecchino’s shoulder. It wasn’t often that Arlecchino talked without yelling, but tonight was different.
“Hey, kid. Did those old bastards abandon you?”
Anastasiy shook his head. No, he’d walked with them for a while. But people staring and cooing at him… it made his tummy hurt. It reminded him too much of him.
“Too loud?”
A nod. Arlecchino’s brow furrowed, Columbina’s smile as still as ever.
“I see. Do you want to go outside? It might be a little quieter…”
Once again, he shook his head. People would wonder where he was- and his baba said it was rude to leave without permission. He didn’t want to ask these strangers for permission. “No thank you…” He whispered, remembering what Pantalone had taught him about manners. He had to say please and thank you, it was polite.
“Alright, kid. If you do want to get some air or if someone’s bothering you, you find me? Yeah?” Arlecchino’s tone held the slightest touch of warning, as if she were already scolding those who were bothering him. Anastasiy nodded quickly, he didn’t want his aunt to get angry. “Good. We’ll see you later, kid.”
With that, the two trundled off back towards the crowd, leaving Anastasiy alone. It was a little more quiet here, but he still could hear the cackling of people in powdered makeup, and the clink of glasses as more champagne was poured.
They weren’t here for him. They were here for his parents and their money. His birthday was the spectacle of the year, only seven days after the new year, which he could still clearly see marked on Irnes’ old calendar. It was kept in his closet with the other things that he’d left behind, including a few of his old notebooks and ruin guard pieces. Irnes wouldn’t leave him by himself, if he were here. He would hold Anastasiy close, squeezing him until he couldn’t breathe, wishing him the best birthday ever. While his gift wouldn’t have been the most expensive or gaudy, it would’ve been Anastasiy’s favorite.
Earl wasn’t there either. He hadn’t seen Earl since that night Anastasiy found him in the halls, eyes wide and cheeks wet with tears. Earl hadn’t explained anything to him, had simply kissed his brow and promised to be back the next day. It had been two years since that night.
He missed his big brothers. He missed them so much. Would they be proud of how much he’d grown? He was now taller than his father’s hip, and he was getting bigger by the day, according to his aunties.
Hands fidgeting in his lap, he looked out over the crowd, searching for a particular face. No, there was no way he was here either. Right?
The socializing continued, leaving Anastasiy with his thoughts. That is, until he noticed his baba standing from his plush seat, raising his glass and tapping on it a few times, the rings quickly quieting the crowd.
“Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, and the company you keep. Thank you for making the journey to this palace for this banquet, I am most honored to have you in attendance.”
“Bullshit”, his папа would call it.
“Tonight we are here to celebrate my son, Anastasiy Danya-Ilya, and his ten years of life. It feels like just yesterday that I took him under my wing. I am very proud of who he has become up to this point, and I look forward to the many years we will have together before he joins us in our service to Her Majesty. And for that, I must raise a toast to my beloved son. To Anastasiy!”
“ TO ANASTASIY! ”
He winced at the sudden barrage of noise, the shout echoing through the massive hall. The people glanced at him, the chatter gradually resuming as Pantalone sat down once more, glancing back at him with a small smile.
Anastasiy didn’t like it. It was selfish and rude, he knew, but he didn’t like it. It made tears come to his eyes as dinner was served, and he refused to move from his spot as people flocked to the rows of aromatic food. Too many people. It was too loud, why was it only bothering him now. His baba was too busy with people, his папа was probably drunk-
“Danya, are you okay?”
Oh, Sergei was here.
“Mhm. I’m fine…” He whispered, trying to breathe around the tightness in his throat. It was too much. He wanted to go home…
“S-sorry if I’m overstepping, but you look sad. Is there something I can do to help…?” Sergei stuttered a bit, he hadn’t changed much from when they first met. At least he was still here…
He couldn’t cry. People would come. People would ask him what was wrong. He couldn’t tell them that he missed his big brothers, his friend, his parents- and it would be so selfish to tell them that he just wanted a night where he could have his baba and папа’s undivided attention, where they weren’t working on projects or keeping up with the treasury.
He didn’t want all these people here, he didn’t want a big party. He just wanted his family to gather around, to tease him and pinch his cheeks, comment on how tall he was now and joke about how he was old enough to have a glass with the adults. He wanted to sit by the fire as Uncle Ajax told him stories of places far away, wanted to have Grandpa ‘Nella chuckle about how small and cute he used to be. Arlecchino and his baba would be back to arguing, his папа would probably still be passed out drunk on the couch, Columbina would be singing in a language he barely knew. Capitano and Pierro would be playing chess again, the older Harbinger cursing as Capitano backed him into a corner once again, taking another shot of firewater to drown his sorrow of losing again. Sandrone would bring Lyev so he could see that his charge was doing well, and would pat his shoulder gently to greet him. His baby cousins would try to tackle him, all babbling about their newest discoveries. Irnes and Earl would sit in the old armchairs by the fire, chatting in low voices and chuckling at something stupid Irnes had said, his friend would rush to hug him and talk about the awesome new story his brother told him.
Everything would be perfect that way. They would gather around a small cake, topped with strawberries and cream, belting out the worst cacophony of “happy birthday” he’d ever heard, and someone would inevitably get their face smashed into a slice of cake.
Just thinking about it made his eyes burn.
“Danya?” Sergei was still there, lingering hesitantly.
Anastasiy merely shook his head, getting down from the chair. Auntie was right, he needed some air.
He got up from his chair. Sergei called after him. He didn’t listen. The doors to the rest of the palace were wide open, and it was easy enough to sneak past the crowd, hugging the wall. Once he finally made it to the doors, he scrambled outside into the icy halls, Sergei calling after him.
It was easy to get lost in the halls of the palace, but Anastasiy knew them like the back of his hand. Days sneaking out with Irnes had paid off, a cold breeze blowing against his face as he emerged out on a lonely balcony, the piazza below deserted. Snow drifted down from the clouds gently, some landing in his curly hair as he slowly walked outside, hugging himself to keep warm. His lower lip trembled as he was finally alone, fully alone. It was quiet.
Finally.
He didn’t have to worry about the stares as a few tears trickled down his face, his vision blurring. He was supposed to be mature, not crying like a baby because his birthday wasn’t the way he wanted. It was stupid, crying because only one person noticed how miserable he was. Or only one person decided to actually check on him. Of course it was Sergei, too.
Leaning on the railing, he buried his face in the thick cotton of his cloak, commissioned by his baba just for today. No sounds came out of his mouth as he gasped weakly, tears soaking into the fabric. His throat felt so tight that it was painful, his teeth chattering together in the cold as the wind blew at his back, the moon hidden behind a blanket of clouds.
He didn’t remember how long he stood out there, but a heavy hand landed on his shoulder after a long time, shocking him out of his crying.
“Danya.” Oh. It was Capitano. He knew that muffled voice from all his days watching Capitano sharpen his sword- it was shiny, and the Captain was quiet, which made it easy to sit by him for a while when the world was too loud.
Sniffling, Anastasiy wiped at his face with his sleeve, his lips trembling as his face heated. Did Capitano think he was rude? Was he going to get in trouble?
“You’re crying.”
Anastasiy almost laughed, hearing Capitano say it so plainly. But all that came out was a miserable sob, more tears streaming down his face. He was going to be in so much trouble…
Wiping at his face desperately with his hands, he didn’t even notice Capitano putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, an attempt at comfort. He only noticed when the Captain finally spoke again, his helmet gleaming in the distant and muted light of the moon.
“Pantalone is worried sick. We should return.”
Right. He had to go back…
“Okay…”
Capitano seemed satisfied, though he paused a moment to ruffle Anastasiy’s hair, the boy watching him with wide eyes.
“Do not cry. I have a gift for you.”
Anastasiy looked up in confusion, his eyes still red rimmed as the Captain withdrew, beckoning Anastasiy after him. Hesitating, he considered it for a moment, before walking quickly after Capitano, casting a final glance back at the Piazza, the snow still drifting peacefully down from the sky.
The halls of the palace were quiet. The occasional drunk guest would stumble past as Capitano led Anastasiy back towards the main event, passing the rowdy chamber where the party was still in full swing. Was his baba really worried? The party was too loud for him to be worried…
“Stop thinking.” Capitano seemed to sense his unease, turning back. “You overthink too much.”
“...Sorry.” He whispered, only to get a shake of the head from Capitano, the Harbinger leading him beyond the hall and back towards the more familiar wing of the palace. The Harbingers were rarely gathered in the palace all at the same time, their rooms gathered in one wing and usually unoccupied. His baba and папа rarely left unless it was on serious business, which meant he was used to having a warm fire lit and familiar silhouettes in the shadows, working late into the night. As he grew older, it was like they had more work to do, especially his baba. Things weren’t going good in Fontaine, if the whispers he heard late in the night were anything to go by.
They passed the lab, even the carved door of Pantalone’s office, before arriving at the Captain’s quarters, closest to the barracks and probably the furthest from the main halls. The door creaked as the Captain opened it, beckoning him inside the dimly lit room. Anastasiy hesitated in the doorway, bowing once as a sign of gratitude for being allowed inside as his baba had taught him, tiptoeing inside and glancing around the room. There wasn’t much inside, just a large bed against one wall, a fur rug on the floor next to the fire. A large armchair was pulled up beside it, with a large lump laying on it, a few others gathered around the legs and huddled close to the fire.
The Captain approached the lumps, reaching out and moving one of them. “Up.” Capitano snapped his fingers, the lump moving and raising its head. “You’ll suffocate Dasha, Slava.”
The lump let out a little whine, but rolled over, the Captain reaching over it and pulling another small lump from the pile. “Go back to sleep. I will return later.”
A few of the other lumps shifted and perked up, Anastasiy shuffling closer to get a better look.
Oh. Oh! They were dogs! Big dogs, too!
The Captain looked up, a deep rumble coming from his chest as he noticed the look of pure delight on the boy’s face. Getting up from where he knelt on the ground, he held the furry bundle with one arm, the other beckoning him closer.
“This one is Daria. You may call her Dasha.” He murmured, stroking the puppy between the ears. Anastasiy could finally see what the lump was, a fluffy puppy that snuggled closer to the Captain’s chest, tiny ear perked. “You may pet her. She’s very well trained.”
“But she’s sleeping…” Anastasiy whispered. He didn’t want to wake her up…
“She is not fully asleep. Go on.” Capitano held the puppy the slightest bit closer, the boy visibly hesitating before reaching out, gently touching her between the ears.
The puppy raised her head a little, feeling the hand on her head, tipping her head up to sniff. After a long moment of deciding, she nuzzled Anastasiy’s palm, getting a little giggle for her efforts.
“She likes you.”
“Really?”
Capitano nodded, shifting the puppy in his arms. “Yes. She usually keeps to herself.” He murmured, stroking Dasha’s back gently.
“Oh. She’s very fluffy…”
“Yes. Do you like her?”
“Mhm! Very soft… And she’s cute…”
The Captain chuckled once more, before shifting his grip on the puppy, extending her. She was so big… though the Captain’s size made her seem so small.
“Then she is yours.”
The boy’s eyes widened, his mouth opening slightly. His? He didn’t have many things, at least not that he considered his… But Capitano was offering him a puppy. A really cute one, too!
“But…”
“No buts. She will protect and care for you, Danya. Take good care of her in return.”
The dog was set in his arms, and she was heavy. He had to hug her tightly to keep her from falling, the Captain lingering to make sure he had a good grip. She was like a big baby, shifting in his arms and tickling his face with her wet nose. Anastasiy giggled as she licked his cheek, her little tail wagging against his arm.
“I love her! Thank you, Uncle Capitano!”
From that day forward, Dasha was his companion.
She was almost as big as he was, always sleeping at the foot of his bed (or against his side on bad nights) and waking him up by licking his face. While he still had lessons with Arlecchino and his tutor, he would always come back to Dasha waiting for him, her head resting in his baba’s lap as he worked on paperwork, trotting over and nuzzling his face. She even paced a circle around him to make sure he was alright, before smothering him in sloppy kisses, almost licking the inside of his mouth once or twice. It was gross, but Dasha was his best friend. She only became fluffier as the years went on, to the point that she needed more brushing from Pantalone than he did. His папа was terrified of her, but Dasha didn’t seem to care, always sleeping by his feet or trying to climb into his lap. His baba always laughed at Dottore’s terrified expression, whistling for Dasha to climb into his lap instead.
Dasha was also there to guard him. Few could break into the palace, let alone the Regrator’s office, but the few that did got a surprise when a fully grown Dasha barked from the bed, shooting at them with enough force to knock even the sturdiest man off his feet. The first time, the perpetrators had nearly lost their heads, Dasha leaving them to comfort Anastasiy instead, his crying drawing her attention as she barked loud enough to wake even Dottore out of a dead sleep, the room crowded with pissed off Harbingers and a near frantic Pantalone in less than a few moments.
She even accompanied him out of the palace a few times to stretch her legs, before he left for Fontaine. His job as a diplomat would be more difficult if he had to explain why he had a dog that would pounce on command, and Dasha would be miserable in the heat. But she loved the snow, darting through the underbrush as Anastasiy followed, trekking through Snezhnayan wilderness as Aurelio and Tartaglia followed from a distance.
But when the day finally came, he had to leave her at the pier, making sure to give her an extra kiss goodbye.
“Take care of my baba and папа for me while I’m away, okay? Don’t let them get too lonely…”
Dasha chuffed in response, nuzzling his face as if to reassure him.
“Good girl! I’ll be back soon.” He said, giving her one last good scratch, the agents already on board starting to get impatient. “Goodbye for now, Dasha. I’ll see you soon!”
The boat pulled away, leaving a banker, doctor, and loyal friend alone.
The next time it returned, Dasha was the first one at the pier, and a boy ran down to meet her.