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Tatiana Vorontsova
Firebird of old, give us your apples of gold.
Thu Jan 18, 2018 19:53

Midsummer and Bonfire were new words for Tatiana, but she recognized parts of them – particularly summer, and mid, that was the first part of the word middle; noticing these little things was much of what made English even marginally comprehensible when people actually spoke it outside a book – and recognized the occasion pretty well. It was like Ivan Kupala, St. John’s Day. In Petersburg, they would have the festival of the White Nights, which Mama always talked about and which Tatiana longed to attend someday, and at home, there would, as now, be a fire.

Arriving in many fewer jewels than usual, however – just her diamond studs in her ears – and a light dress, she quickly concluded that this was about where the similarities were going to end. There was no water, beyond the quantities and presentations that could be drunk, and no flowers. At home, everyone would wear flowers in their hair, and older girls would use theirs to tell their fortunes in flowing water. Bathing in such was encouraged as well, either in light clothes (such as the dress Tatiana was wearing) or nothing at all. None of that was in evidence, nor couples trying to sneak off into the woods, not least because they weren’t any woods, just the stands. There was at least music – these people weren’t total barbarians, then, or very dull and sad – and some fire-dancers, which was some consolation, but the overall effect was still a bit…foreign.

Trying to focus on the bits that were not peculiar and disappointing, and ignoring how nobody was jumping over the fire, she wandered around smiling at people and wishing them a happy Midsummer in English until she saw one she knew. Her shadow preceded her to Dorian, though, and he snapped his book – presumably his English word-book – closed all of a sudden, which made Tatiana grin at him when he looked at her.

“You with secrets?” she joked, pointing to the book.

  • Waiting for poetryDorian Montoir, Sat Jan 13 11:17
    Dorian was rather looking forward to the fire. It sounded like quite a lot of fun, and they got to camp out and share tents with people who weren’t their room-mates - though he had no objections to... more
    • Firebird of old, give us your apples of gold. — Tatiana Vorontsova, Thu Jan 18 19:53
      • Ah. It was Tatya. Dorian had been ready to squirrel the book away into his pocket, far too used to his things being snatched by his brother for a game of keep-away. He had not had any such... more
        • Having both makes one happy and bold.Tatiana, Mon Jan 22 16:08
          Tatiana leaned forward to hear as Dorian whispered about his great ‘secret.’ Upon the revelation, she stood back, covering her mouth with her hand in mock surprise. “Never tell,” she said, just as... more
          • Dorian smiled as Tatya agreed to keep his secret. She hugged him back, which reassured him both in the sense that his hug was clearly not unwelcome, and also because it was always nice to be held. He ... more
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