Chapter Text
Irina Rozanova II was sixteen when she kissed a girl for the first time. In the dressing rooms right before the order of the medalists were to be announced she had kissed the girl who won gold twenty minutes later. It certainly had sweetened the memory of the silver medal from that year. Later that day she had laughed to herself in a sad sort of way, thinking about how she must take after her uncle, at least a little bit. She pushed the memory away whenever she thought of having kissed her rival. It didn’t matter very much anymore, she was about to start her professional career as a figure skater and needed to be wiser about her distractions.
The only thing Irina had received for her 18th birthday in the spring was an email from a Canadian lawyer and a Canadian phone number supposedly belonging to her estranged Uncle. In all fairness to say she had only received an email would be an understatement and discredited her uncle. A trust fund was accessible to her now, or at least a small portion of the scarily large sum was. It was to be directly allocated to schooling or housing until she turned 25 and could do as she pleased with it.
The first thing she did after sending a tentative text to the number supposedly belonging to her uncle was look at flights to Canada for the end of June. She had no idea how this was going to go but she liked to keep her options open. Internally she had prepared for the worst but entertained the idea of the best occurring as well.
Mid May her phone rang, not a un-known number but one she now realized she foolishly hadn’t saved to her contacts.
“Hello, is this Irinushka- Irina?” The Russian speaker corrected himself.
“I- yes. This is Irina.” Her mouth felt dry, what was she even meant to say to the rich and famous uncle she hadn’t spoken to in twelve years?
“This is Ilya, your…” He trailed off. “Uncle. Your Uncle Ilya, it’s been many years since we last spoke, you were very small in my memory.”
Irina almost laughed at that. “And you very tall in mine, but I have grown since.” Ilya made an amused sound on the other end of the line.
“I wanted to wish you a Happy Birthday, I am sorry I did not get in touch sooner. It is my understanding that you have been busy with competitions, no?”
She almost balked at that. Some part of her had always secretly hoped her Uncle caught her name amongst the roster of skaters in competition but she told herself that she understood if he was too distanced from Russia now to keep up. She had certainly sought out as many headlines as she could with his name in them over the years. It was a secret she would take to the grave but her main motivation for learning English as a teenager had been to be able to read and understand the news surrounding her Uncle as he became less interesting in the Russian hockey world. Her Uncle is now coming up on his 9th season with the Ottawa Centaurs and should be celebrating 10 years of marriage with his husband soon.
“Yes, I have been competing, though the season ends in about a month.” Her Uncle probably knew this but she then remembered what she needed to mention to him.
“Dyadya,” The word was unfamiliar in her mouth. “at the end of the season I will be flying to Canada. I have not decided which coach I will go with yet but I will likely end up in Ottawa or Quebec. We will see.” She felt nervous but also embarrassed to tell him this, she wasn’t looking for anything more than what she’d been given but she figured Ilya might as well hear it from her as he would be able to see her finances for the upcoming few years.
“Oh! This is exciting. I did not know this yet, is it because you want to compete internationally?” Ilya asked, his voice filling with a surprising amount of excitement.
“Da, I am not sure where things will go but I like the idea of living abroad. And now I have the means to do so.” She added the last part shyly. She knew Ilya was more than aware of her father’s financial habits but it was still embarrassing how little of her winnings she had managed to keep away from her father.
“Thank you. For making this possible, I understand why you left and did not expect anything from you but your support means a lot.” Irina clarified curtly.
“Of course, it was an investment I am very glad to have made. I think you will like it here, it was good for me when I was your age. Ottawa is a good city, though I am definitely biased.” Ilya paused for a moment.
“I will have to speak with Shane but we would love to have you visit if you will be here in the off season.” Ilya said, tentatively. He had no idea if this was taking it too far as an estranged uncle who hadn’t seen his niece since she’d been half his height. Irina worried for a moment that Ilya was unsure of what Irina thought of his public queer marriage and pushed through her shock to quickly form a reply.
“I would love to meet your Husband.” She clarified. “And it would be good to see you if you have the time. I know how little time you get even in the off season. I have a little cousin I hear, it would be good to meet her.” Irina said with a small smile.
Ilya’s voice filtered through after a moment. “Cousin?”
“I've seen the photos you post of Anya, she is very cute and spoiled, so many bows.”
It clicked for Ilya. “Ahh! Anyechka! Yes! She would love to meet you I’m sure.” He laughed, a sound Irina couldn’t ever remember hearing from him.
Ilya let out a happy sigh. “We would love to see you, please let me know when you are in Canada.”
“I will.”
July, 2028
That's how Irina finds herself the first week of July at the Ottawa airport. It is small but slightly overwhelming for an eighteen year old who’d never really traveled internationally before. Her Uncle- Uncles, she supposed, were meant to pick her up and take her back to their home. Irina was trying to not be intimidated by this idea but Ilya and eventually Shane had needled her into staying with them while she looked for an apartment. They insisted on taking her back to their ‘Cottage’ first as it was where they stayed in the summers. She had decided to go with the coach in Ottawa, being slightly more keen on the idea after getting to know her Uncle a little more over the last month.
The sun was blinding as she stepped out of the airport and she fought the urge to close her eyes. She had been traveling for almost 20 hours and was bone tired but still determined. None of her equipment was lost in a layover which she was more than thankful for.
Squinting she looked for a tall blonde man amid the cars and people parked along the pick up zone. She did not have to wait long as soon a sleek but modest black SUV pulled up and Ilya Rozanov exited the passenger door. Seeing her Uncle in front of her after so many years was certainly strange as she was more used to seeing photographs of him during the Hockey season now-a-days.
“Irina!” Ilya called out, pushing his sunglasses up his forehead. His smile was the brightest she had ever seen in person and it warmed her to think of how obviously happy he was here.
Shane Hollander was there too, lurking in the driver's seat of the car but watching his husband with a soft smile. It shocked her a little more to see him there despite the fact that he was just as famous as Ilya and married to him none the less. It was strange to think that the Rozanov in front of her had once upon a time carried her out of the room when her father and grandfather's argument had brought her to tears and galloped around the room making silly horse noises until she laughed through the snot.
Ilya moved to take one of her duffels, still grinning but more shyly now. Irina hadn’t thought of herself as a physically affectionate person but when her Uncle offered her a side hug with one outstretched arm she accepted. Her heart warmed pleasantly at the quick shake and ruffle he gave her. She gave him a small smile in return.
Shane popped the trunk as they approached the SUV and upon Ilya’s insistence he loaded her bags into the trunk. The car was still running as Irina climbed into the back seat while Ilya joined his husband upfront. It was hard to know what to say, she felt shy in a way she hadn’t in a long time.
Shane turned in his seat to greet her properly. “It’s nice to have you visit Irina, it's exciting to have another skater as a guest.” Shane said in slightly accent-less Russian. Her eyes widened considerably.
“Dyadya you didn’t tell me he spoke Russian too! Did you teach him? His accent is terrible-” Irina cut herself off realizing that not only was she probably getting too worked up but that Shane likely understood most of what she was saying. Her cheeks colored quickly and she glanced at Shane who was mostly looking amused with her reaction.
“Of course, I taught him myself.” Ilya said proudly.
Shane thwacked his arm lightly. “He ‘taught’ me by calling me things like ‘my lovely lawnmower’, I studied plenty on my own, thanks.” Ilya rolled his eyes and turned back around in his seat. Shane, not wanting to start an argument in front of their guest, did the same and moved to pull out of the pick up lane.
“Your Russian is very good, I apologize for my surprise. My English is not good, I need more practice.” Irina commented after a moment.
“I would hope I’m at least okay after learning for ten years.” Shane laughed lightly.
“You should practice with someone who isn’t me or Sveta more, and you can help Irina with her English, a trade.” Ilya suggested. Irina vaguely recalls the woman Ilya mentioned as Svetlana, close friend of her uncle and someone she had met at her grandfather’s funeral over a decade ago.
Shane raised an eyebrow at Ilya. “Wouldn’t you be best to help her with her English? From a Russian to English perspective?”
Ilya offered him an equally confused look. “English is your first language, no? I did not have Sveta teach you Russian, it is not her first language.” Ilya said in English.
“Sveta learned both at the same time, don’t try to pull that on me.” Shane argued back playfully.
Irina listened to the conversation between the two and observed the love that was clear in their playful banter. She had the vague realization that now by marriage Shane was also her Uncle. Should she refer to him as such? It might be too weird to ask so she decided avoiding addressing him directly without ignoring him would be the best course of action.
“The Cottage is about two hours from here, we could get something to eat on our way? I’m sure you must be hungry.” Shane said to Irina, snapping her out of her thoughts. She looked back at him through the rearview mirror.
“Yes please.” Irina answered.
After consuming some Canadian fast food that most definitely went against her performance diet it was easy to shut her eyes and be content to listen to the soft conversation happening up front.
Twenty minutes later as they pulled up to a red light, Ilya nudged Shane lightly and motioned to the backseat. Shane turned to look at Irina folded up in the backseat against her duffel, fast asleep with her lips parted in a way that reminded him of Ilya. Shane gave his husband a fond look and turned back to watch the light.
“I’m glad she’s comfortable enough at least.” He voiced softly.
Ilya murmured a noise of agreement. “I wish I could have done more for her.” He admitted.
“You’re here now, that's what matters, and you know that's what Galina would say too.” Shane reasoned before Ilya could say more.
Ilya huffed a sigh and nodded. His husband was right, all he could do was re-build a connection now.