Moscow – Winter 1564
The man who would become known as Ivan the Terrible didn't have what anyone would call a charmed childhood. His father died when Ivan was the tender age of three, leaving the young child the Grand Prince of Moscow. His mother, who had done her best to protect him against the boyars who sought to use the Grand Prince for their own purposes, perished from illness when he was eight. Mistreated by the boyars who sought to manipulate him for control of the Rus even as the boyars' families fought one another, Ivan grew up unhappy and paranoid, and it is almost a miracle that he made it to adulthood, crowned as the first Tsar of all the Russias.
When he chose Anastasia Romanovna as his wife, he gained the first measure of happiness he had known in a long time.
Anastasia had proven to be a positive influence on her husband, easing his paranoia and giving him wise advice that aided in his rule, and supporting him with the love and comfort of a loyal mate. However, the boyars disliked her because her family was lower-ranked, and not from any of the families of the powerful Russian nobles who would benefit from having a daughter or sister bear the heir of the House of Rurik.
Their machinations had continued after his marriage, but with Anastasia's influence, he was able to handle them in a more even-handed manner.
This was all to end when Anastasia fell ill and died under questionable circumstances. In his rage and grief, Ivan sought revenge. Prayer did nothing for him, and he turned to a very non-Christian method. He invoked the name of Venganza, known in ancient Byzantium as Ekdisiki, and she had responded to his call. Ivan's revenge against the boyars was spectacular and was only the first step in establishing his reputation as 'terrible'. However, after his revenge had been accomplished, his mental illness and paranoia had remained, having been with him since childhood and not the least bit ameliorated from his revenge.
And Venganza would grant him no more wishes, leaving him to his own devices, which included a refreshed religious fervor. However, she remained in Moscow, albeit disguised as a mortal, watching Russian history being shaped from a distance. Having watched the kingdoms and cities of the Levant grow through the centuries and expand their culture through west and east alike and the men and women that shaped the destinies of many, she knew Ivan would be an important figure in Russian history. He had been born a prince of Moscow but was now the supreme ruler of the Rus, and Anastasia had been the empire's first tsaritsa.
Ivan was already married to his second wife, and she had given birth to a son the previous year who had died two months later, which predictably sharpened his paranoia. The children he had with Anastasia were jealously guarded and watched over, lest misfortune befall them. Ironically, in the end, it was Ivan himself who would bring destruction to his own line.
It was a sharp winter afternoon and the demon who now called herself Koshka was out on the docks, watching as the ships plied through the ice on the Moscow River, bringing wares to the city that seemed locked in a wintry wasteland. Her breath came out white in the clear air, and the wind whipped several strands of hair around her face as she watched the ice floes give way to the great boats.
As a merchant – an exceedingly rare occupation for a woman in the male-dominated Russian world – she had done well for herself, importing fine fabrics and treasures from China and the Middle East, and selling them to upper-class Russian women who found the lush fabric a worthwhile distraction in the semi-isolation of their quarters. Muscovite conventions stated that as a woman of wealth, Koshka should cloister herself in her home, sending servants out for daily tasks and news. To hell with propriety, the demon thought disdainfully as one of the ships pulled up and dropped anchor. She shivered a bit as she pulled up her fur-lined collar.
Crates and chests were unloaded, and she opened the lid of one, pressing her hand down on the thick velvet.
o0o
Puck had paid little attention to the events in Russia. So many fae and demons in the West disdained the East, considering the cultures of the Arabs and the Slavs to be backward. The Renaissance was shaping European history, that was where it was happening, his peers and acquaintances told him, even amidst the religious conflicts that were tearing through the Isles and many parts of the Continent.
Meh, Puck thought. To be sure, there were plenty of interesting people to talk to – artists, philosophers, scientists, and the like, but he was a merry wanderer and decided that he would take his wanderings to more exotic – at least to him – locales. He had no interest in vengeance, paranoia, or the bitter cold. He was, however, interested in one particular woman hiding out in Russia...
Having appeared in the city several days prior and clad in a human guise, the ancient fae took the time to get the lay of the land, a feel for the Russian language, and a nice hat with ear flaps. He didn't need it, being a magical being and all... but it was a furry hat... with ear flaps!
Slipping unobtrusively through the crowd, he made his way over to the vengeance demon, who looked particularly striking in a deep green quilted jacket with dark fur along the hems.
"So what do you have there? Furs? Vodka?"
She regarded him with a smirk as she made eye contact, lifting her head. "Well, fancy seeing you up here in this frozen wasteland, imp. And it's silk and velvet, though perhaps there are some spirits in there, too. Nice hat, by the way." She studied him, and he lifted his chin a bit, allowing her to examine him. He knew he was a sharp sight in the clothing he'd chosen, making sure it reflected upon Russian fashion properly... if a bit flamboyantly. A bright red and blue jacket completed his look, embroidered with fanciful patterns of leaves along the sleeves and hem in green and gold thread.
"It really is, isn't it?" he grinned, adjusting the hat by tugging on the ear flaps. "Velvet, huh? Wanna get naked and roll around in it with me?" he raised his eyebrows suggestively.
She gave out a warm laugh at that. "Why am I not surprised to hear such a comment from you? Although in this weather I am sure you would do a marvelous job of keeping us warm. So, what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?" At this time of the year, daylight was limited, and though it was only early afternoon, the sky was already beginning to darken with twilight.
"You didn't say no," he pointed out, reaching out and resting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm bored. And I wanted to see you. Been awhile. How about you? I'm certain you had something to do with what crazy Ivan did a few years ago, but why stick around? This place is pretty awful."
"Well, the winters are pretty terrible but I like coming to the Rus once in a while and see how things have progressed over the centuries. A thousand years ago, this was nothing more than a small town. In fact, all you could find in Russia were small towns, and mainly around the Volga. Now you have Moscow, Kiev, and other places. It's also interesting to compare its growth to Europe. You can see how different things are here, especially after the Roman Empire split into two. So many different cultures and people across this mighty land." The religion, clothing, food, even the script they used for language were drastically different from the West. As for the people, they ranged from the Mongols to the Tatars, Persians, Finnish, Germanic, and other peoples. "And though Ivan may be crazy, he did build that." She gestured back towards the city, where the spires of St. Basil's were visible, the multicolored domes catching the sunlight, an image that would remain one of the most widely-recognized and iconic images of Russia even to the current day.
Puck turned and looked up at St. Basil's and whistled, impressed. "Well, that's certainly nice. Still too damn cold here though. Makes the people grumpy. Also, this weather means a lot of layered clothing and I've never cared overmuch for that."
Bouncing in place, he looked around, taking in the sights. "So about that naked in the velvet thing. I'm free this afternoon. You game?"
She regarded him with a slight smirk. "I am having a banquet at my house tonight. You're invited, but only as an acquaintance, and I expect you to behave yourself. I do have some business to do first. So come in a couple of hours and I'll feed you a warm dinner to chase away that cold."
"I do like food..." he nodded thoughtfully. "I'll be there."
o0o
Koshka was holding one of her lavish banquets for the business and merchants that made up much of Moscow's mercantile elite. The music was merry, the food was lavish, and the alcohol flowed freely. Russians were not called 'bears' for no reason, especially all bundled up for the winter as they were.
She was an elegant sight in fur-trimmed velvet and dark pink silk, her hair braided in a thick coil that hung down her back. As a woman, she was seen as unusually forward by many, and in a male-dominated – and orthodox – society, it was inevitable that men would try to 'put her in her place' but they were quick to learn that one did not mess with Koshka. Though she presented herself as a mortal, people would call her a demon or a she-wolf or she-bear behind her back. Not that she minded, of course.
When Puck arrived, she went to his side, escorting him to one of the best seats in the room near the stove. She turned to a pretty servant with two long blond braids. "Eleni, come here. Be sure my friend is well-attended." The Puck was many things, but never a poor guest. She was many things, but never a poor host. The maid did as her mistress ordered, making sure Puck's cup was always full, and when servants brought in platters of this or that, she made sure that Puck had a choice of the best cuts of meat, and so on. This drew some grumblings from the other men, not that Koshka seemed to notice or care.
"The royal treatment, huh?" he commented, admiring the serving girl as she provided him with another cut of grilled and spiced bear meat. "I could get used to this." Lifting his cup he took a long drink and held it out for Eleni, requiring her to get close to fill it. While he whispered to her teasingly, his gaze still floated over to Koshka, his focus rarely elsewhere when the feisty demon was around.
