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Chapter 34: Bone
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2024-10-29 19:42:56“Who is there?” Anya called. Her voice echoed in the wind.
The music stopped. “A wanderer,” came a voice like a waterfall.
Anya squared her shoulders. “That is not a name.”
“You may call me Kosti,” he replied. “I see that you are armed. What a pity. Fair things like you should not live in fear.”
“I am not afraid.”
“That, my girl, is a lie. My music tends to stir up… rather unsettling emotions. But I beg you relax. You are safe.”
“Am I?” Anya said. “The anglerfish's lure gives comfort before its bite.”
Kosti laughed. He stepped from the pine's shadow. “I am far from a fish.”
Anya caught sight of him in the morning light. He was slender and tall, dressed in furs and a white kaftan, a violin at hand. His skin was pale and h
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“I missed you too. You do not, um, mind that I look like this now, do you? I thought, in order to save you, that I had to become something else. Someone I am not.”Anya avoided stepping on a mushroom. “Well, your skin is cold, but you are still you. You put on Ded Moroz’s crown for me. If you can accept me as I am now, as a – as Bilobog, or whatever, then I can still love you.”Morozko stopped, taking both of her hands into his. “Anya, I would not care if you became a hag. I would still adore you. Remember? I am your sidekick. All I want is your happiness.”Anya leaned into him. “Thanks, Kolya. You mean the world to me, too.”Their lips met.Aym coughed up a hairball. It landed square on Morozko’s cheek, interrupting their kiss. Aym purred with laughter as Morozko wiped the matted fur from his f
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Ded Moroz's eyes seemed to pick the meat clean from Morozko's bones. Father Frost stroked his hoary beard, glacial icicle spiked crown resting atop his brow. His courtiers thronged round his throne, whispering at the scandal of his scion, the bannik bastard born out of wedlock to Snegurochka.“So,” Ded Moroz boomed. “You wish to be reinstated to the family legacy and become my heir? A responsibility you have shirked since your birth, all to save some orphan witch?”Morozko sweated, the furnace in his belly roaring. “Yes,” he said, temple throbbing under the scrutiny of his forefather, a man he had never wanted please.A thin smile graced Ded Moroz's lips. “I cannot say that I am glad that it has taken so long for you to accept your heritage. But for the love of a woman, you are willing. So be it. I will give you your crown, my grandson.”Morozko let out t
