Father Frost

9;30 PM

The sun was long gone for the winter sky, leaving only the moon to glisten over the snow capped houses and hills of the valley. Most of the Popov children had gone to bed, expect for the few at school and the singular daughter of Pieter the first.

"The time will come, then you will learn- The pugnacious life, " Iva remembered the sound of her mother's song, drifting through the house like the warmth of the fire, pulling her from the warmth of her covers into the hall. The words echoed in her mind- a reminder of something that wasn't there. Mother had gone to her room, apparently sick of the attention her child needed. Instead of wallowing in the emptiness of the place, Iva opened her little mouth and rasped out the words of the song as she skipped down the hall, the late hour not affected her energy.

"I will die from longing,
I will wait inconsolably,
I will pray the whole day long,
And at night I'll tell fortunes
I will think that you are in trouble
Far away in a foreign land.
Sleep now, as long as you don't know sorrows,
Bayushki- Bayashi?"

Iva stumbled over the last line, her voice down to a little squeak. The sickness always did this to her. Robbed her voice and strength. Even after the little exercise she had, walking down the hall, her legs had begun to shake. Unsure of what to do, the toddler did the only thing she knew how to.

"Mama? Mama!" No response. "MAMA!"

In an instant, her mother was upon her, picking her up in those familiar arms. But, instead of the normal comforting words, Iva's jaw was caught up in a strong grip. The child let out a whine, but didn't bother to pull away.

"Inno! Why are you up? You are a bad child!" Her mother's hair, brown and streaked with gray, fell into the daughter's face. She took this as more of a comfort though, cool against the burning skin of her fever.

"If you do not sleep, you'll get germy. The germs will make you sick! Sick, sick, sick!"

Letting the mantra sink in, Iva could only nod, "Yes, Mama,"

"Now be a good child, Bayushki bayu,"

"Yes, Mama,"

Pieter had been dozing - it was not time for his visit with his Princess yet, that was long after his wife had slept - when he heard Inno's voice in the hallway. She was wandering again. That girl was so much like him sometimes, it was rather scary.

He faked sleeping as his wife rose from their bed, peeking out at her with one blue eye as she disappeared. Leaping out from under the covers at the first instant he could, he stood in the doorway, eyeing them both as they made their way down the hallway toward him.

"What has happened, Ptichka?" He asked of Inno, stepping forward. He took the small girl from his wife, holding her in one hand as he balanced them out on his wooden cane with the other. Inno had always been a small child, and fit right in the crook of his elbow if he held it right.

"You should go rest, dear." He told his wife, his voice devoid of emotion, even as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "I will take my Ptichka to bed." He began the long walk down the hallway toward the children's rooms as the door to his bedroom closed.

"Ach, what are you doing out of bed?" He asked Inno softly, ignoring the pain in his leg that was steadily growing, even as he used the cane. "You know how she worries." He chastised gently, glad his Princess had left the door to her room open. He did not know how he would have opened the door with her in one hand.

His limp had become more pronounced in the short journey to her bedroom, but he showed none of it on his face, pausing only to lean down and place her on the bed. He moved back over to the door - to close it - before settling into the rocking chair he'd had someone bring into her room for him.

"How is my Ptichka tonight? Do you feel a little better?"

The young girl looked up at the sound of a cane and automatically wiggled in her mother's grasp, desperate to see her papa. Her mother kept a strong grip though, keeping her daughter close to her chest.

"I couldn't sleep, Bolʹshaya ptitsa," she pouted, settling into her father's hands. Her mother grumbled something under her breath as she disappeared back into the bed room, but Iva paid her no mind- she simply grabbed her father's shirt and let out a laugh at his funny walk before closing her eyes.

"My head hurts again," She murmured, her attitude suddenly mellow. Her brow creased in annoyance of the tapping cane, a look her mother often shared. Another dizzy spell, a result from a virus or something. Her early birth had led to many health problems, many of which her mother doubted her would ever get over.

"Papa, when is Christmas? Is it soon?" she asked, tucking herself into the covers with a dazed look, "When is Ky coming home?" She paused, thinking about silly child questions, "Why do Ky and me have yellow hair, but Peiter and the twins and Vin have brown hair?"