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Prompt 11 Fairytale
They were stranded in a cabin in Norway. They knew it was going to snow heavily but they thought they could have done the job and reached the closest village by the time it started. Instead, Napoleon has some difficulties opening a safe, which led them to a conflict with the security, making them late. They luckily made it to the cabin Waverly gave them as headquarters when it started snowing, the wind blowing harshly, making them feel like the protagonists of a horror novel.
Soon enough everything was covered in snow, and it was impossible for them to look outside or open the door.
“Thank God we have enough food and wood to survive until the storm passes” Napoleon mumbles, looking outside the window but seeing just white. He sighs.
“And blankets! Danke Gott for them, I don’t think I’d have survived the cold” Gaby adds, bringing an insane amount of blankets near the fireplace, where Illya was trying to start a fire.
“You’re right, this is the perfect weather for a nice cup of hot chocolate near the fireplace and under cosy blankets” Napoleon says, the idea making his eyes sparkle, removing himself from his position near the window and going to the kitchen.
However, Illya stops him with his infamous stern look, arms crossed on his chest.
“First we disinfect your wound, then playing”
“Oh, come on. It’s not a real wound anyway, just a scratch”
“A scratch to disinfect”
Napoleon groans loudly, but changes his course, going towards the bathroom. Illya smiles pleased, then follows him.
When they return near the fireplace, Napoleon with a bandage on his triceps and a satisfied smile on and Illya with a newly forming hickey to the side of his neck, they find Gaby seated on the small sofa, buried in multiple blankets.
She looks at them with a smile.
“I’m not even surprised that playing nurse and patient is a kink of yours” she says, smirking when he sees Illya’s neck becoming red for the embarrassment.
“It was Cowyboy’s fault” he murmurs.
“Oh no, I’m not mad that you two got a bit of action without me. I don’t think anything, not even sex, is going to take me away from my nest. You kids go and have fun”
Napoleon laughs. “For being a German you really can’t stand the cold”
“No. That’s why one day I will find a nice house in the Caribbeans and I will live in my bikinis and beach robes and never suffer the cold again” she says, looking dreamily in front of her, to an imaginary beach.
“I like the cold. It is invigorating, makes you alive” Illya says. He then goes to their bedroom, returning with a couple of books.
He leaves one on Gaby’s lap, as she mouths a ‘Thank you’, then he sits down next to her.
“Of course you would say something like that. I myself don’t like the cold but I don’t despise it like Gaby. I can wear nice coats in winter so I can’t complain” Napoleon says, going to sit down next to Illya, when the man stops him by raising a hand.
“What?” Napoleon asks confused, hand on the head of the sofa as his legs are bent in a half-seated half-standing position.
“You make hot chocolate” Illya declares, before opening his book, one hand resting on Gaby’s leg. Or what should be her leg, since under so many blankets it is difficult to distinguish her form.
“Why me?” he asks, slightly indignant.
“You wanted to make it, so you make it” Illya says, smirking.
“You’re lucky you’re both cute” Napoleon says, rolling his eyes in fake annoyance before disappearing in the kitchen.
When he returns the only thing that changed is that now Illya’s legs are covered by a blanket.
“I thought you liked the cold” he says, as he gives them their cups of hot chocolate.
“It’s to maximise the cosiness experience” Gaby replies for Illya, taking a sip of the chocolate and humming satisfied.
Illya just shrugs, before returning to his book.
It makes Napoleon laugh, seeing such a giant sipping hot chocolate under a blanket for ‘the cosiness experience’. Who would’ve thought a man who was capable of being so ruthless could hide a soft side.
Napoleon sits down, taking a blanket and resting his head on Illya’s shoulder, lazily reading some of the pages of his book, being content with letting his mind drift off, enjoying this brief moment of calm in their hectic lives.
However Gaby doesn’t know how to enjoy the quiet, so not long after she puts her book and her empty cup down and starts moving restlessly.
“What” Illya says, eyes not leaving his book.
“Tell me a story” Gaby demands, straightening her back and looking at both of them with a determined expression.
“What are you talking about?” Napoleon asks, raising his head to look at her.
“I am bored, so tell me a story”
“What are you, five?” Napoleon retorts.
Before they can start bickering Ilya puts down his book and takes a sip of his hot chocolate, all while having his index raised.
“I will tell you Russian fairytale like my mother used to do to me when I was little” he says, looking at each of them as if daring them to talk. They both nod.
“One time there was-”
“Once upon a time, that’s how a fairytale usually starts” Napoleon interrupts, earning himself a glare from Illya.
“Once upon a time” Illya repeats, “there was woman with two daugthers. One she loved very much, while she hated the other. One day she asks her husband to take the daughter she hates to the woods and leave her there to die. But the girl is found by Morozko, she is kind and polite to him so he gives her chest with beautiful objects. After some time mother sends father to search for her body but he returns with girl, and she is beautiful and happy. Seeing her so beautiful, she also sends her favourite daughter out in the woods. Morozko finds her too, but she is rude to him, so he leaves her to die in the snow. When father goes to take her, he finds her body. And mother weeps”
After the final sentence silence reigns in the cabin for a few moments, as Napoleon and Gaby process the story.
“Wait, that’s it? What is the moral, the happy ending?” Napoleon asks.
“The moral is to always be kind and polite”
“Otherwise you die?”
“A bit extreme, but yes”
“You Russians are crazy. That’s not a story to tell children, you traumatise them!” Napoleon exclaims.
“Who is this Morozko?” Gaby asks. Napoleon looks at her as if she’s grown a second head.
“For real? That’s your take to the story?”
“Morozko is like American Santa Claus, he brings presents to polite children” Illya says, ignoring Napoleon’s comment.
“Wait, so Santa Claus killed the other girl? This is even more macabre” Napoleon says horrified.
“I liked the story, the Grimm brothers wrote something similar. Thank you” she says, leaving a kiss on Illya’s cheek.
“Go figure. I should have known you also had weird, macabre bedtime stories. My childhood fairy tales involved cute princesses finding the love of their lives or friends exploring the world together”
“You know that your stories are just the cute censored version of ours?” Gaby says amused.
“Americans are too weak to face reality. Our stories prepare children to real world” Illya continues, smirking.
“Hey!” Napoleon exclaims, “It’s not really about weakness, but about protecting children’s innocence and making them live in a better world for some years, before the reality of life hits them. Sometimes showing kindness is a way of showing kids that yeah, life sucks but there are things to enjoy”
“Wow, that’s deep Napoleon” Gaby says, taking Illya’s cup and drinking some of his hot chocolate.
“Did not know you could be so wise. You are like old man” Illya continues, mirroring the same wicked smile present on Gaby’s face.
Napoleon sighs, “I hate you both so much”
They promptly respond with a loud laugh. Napoleon really wants to look indignant but he knows he has a dopey smile on. Those two are going to be the end of him.
“Okok Cowboy” Gaby starts, mocking Illya’s accent, “Let’s see what you got. Tell us true, American fairy tale”
She changes her position, enwrapping herself around Illya’s side, so that she can look at Napoleon. Illya lets her, while fully distending his legs and relaxing his stance. They both look at Napoleon with expectant eyes and a smirk.
“Ok, challenge accepted, you heathens. I’ll show you a true, happy, fairy tale” He says, and starts his narration.
They spend the rest of the night like this, competing for which country has the best fairy tale while drinking hot chocolate, then wine, enclosed in blankets near a fireplace.
And life was never better than that.