Title: The Snow Maiden

Author: loraineee

Email: jennyb@kpunet.net

Website: www.livejournal.com/users/loraineee

Setting: Moscow, Russia

Disclaimer: Vampire slayers belong to Joss Whedon and 20th Century Fox. This is a strictly no profit venture.

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When her roommate left for the party in Mr. Khokhlov's apartment, Fayina curled up tightly in her blankets, shrinking her impossibly tall frame into a little ball, and gave in to the exhaustion that had been nagging her all evening. 'It is odd,' she thought before she slipped under, 'I should sleep so early in the evening.'

The dreams came quickly. Different than the others, but also the same. A flash of a young girl running in an unfamiliar land, eyeless monsters following closely, more running and then the monsters would close in on the girl. Strange men with ridged faces, others with symbols carved over their eyes and still others that were unlike any man she'd ever seen, small and white with long gnarled hands and sharp, pointy teeth that threatened to spill out of it's mouth.

That night, the girls did not run away. That night, they stayed and fought the strange little monsters, struggling against powerful arms and sharp claws. From her hidden vantage point in the cavern, she could hear snippets of yelled orders, understood even though she did not speak English. The girls were losing ground fast and Fayina crouched behind a rock in the corner of the cave, hiding from the nightmare as best she could. Until...until a cold chill swept through her body, starting in the center of her chest and spreading to the tips of her fingers within seconds.

Her eyes snapped open and the dream instantly dissolved, but the chill remained, settling in her bones like the worst days of the rough Moscow winter. But it was almost summer now, and she sat up in the bed, stretching out her legs until her feet hung over the edge of the mattress. She rubbed at her arms, trying to stop her chattering teeth when the chill was replaced by intense warmth and calm. She didn't know which was more disturbing, the dream or this new feeling.

She stared down at her body. It looked the same, but it didn't feel the same. She felt powerful. She reached to the painted over window and pushed up slightly. The paint crackled and the window was flung open. She brushed off the paint flecks and looked out to the street below, mesmerized by the sounds and smells that fell upon her newly activated senses, turning only when she was startled by the sound of light footsteps creaking down the hall. The footsteps continued, stopping outside her door. A faint double throb echoed through her head, quieter than the footsteps but strangely familiar. She knew that sound. The door cracked open and Fayina huddled in the bed, her back against the wall.

"Who's there?"

More footsteps, closer now. They stopped at the head of the bed and Fayina's eyes adjusted to the light or rather the absence of light and made out the figure. "It's just me, Fay. I thought you were asleep, so I was being quiet. Would you rather I had tromped in and flipped on the lights? Really, Fayina. You are so strange sometimes."

"I do not think I'm the only strange one in this room." Fayina's racing heart slowed down as she stretched out on the bed and threw a pillow at her roommate. "Why are you home so early, Nataila? Did Sergei leave with Olena again?"

Natalia took off her jacket and sat on the edge of the bed; her short blond hair sticking out in several different directions, unruly as the girl underneath the hair. "No. Sergei was begging to come home with me, but I told him I had a sick roommate at home and he was not welcome. Or I would have told him if he had asked. But you could see the Natalia-lust in his eyes. It was scandalous, really." Fayina bit her lip, holding back the laughter threatening to spill out. Natalia headed over to the small bureau in the corner, shedding her clothing as she continued her talk of the evening's adventure.

"Olena left with Peter after he practically mauled her on Mr. Khokhlov's couch. It's sad because Peter is only trying to distract her from chair auditions on Thursday. Orchestra members should never sleep together. It's like incest." She walked into the small bathroom and continued talking, after she put on her nightgown. "You know Larissa, from down the hall? The cellist? She was hanging all over Viktor. It was disgusting. I had to leave."

Natalia emerged from the bathroom, scrubbed clean with her hair tied back. She flounced onto her bed and threw herself under the covers. "Now it's your turn to tell me a story. Come on, Fay. Playing with puppets all day, you've got to know a few bedtime stories."

Fayina had settled back in her bed, facing Natalia. She pulled her covers tight over her shoulders before starting. "Okay. I'm working out the choreography on this one in my studio class. I'm sure you've heard it before though."

"I don't care. Tell me the story." Natalia's childish whine made her sound much younger than her 18 years. "I can't get to sleep unless you do."

"Fine." Fayina mentally went through the steps in her head, muscles twitching as she imagined moving the dowels and strings. "Once upon a time there lived a couple. They were happy, but had always regretted not having children. A cold winter day, the man and woman saw some neighborhood children playing in the snow, and felt the absence of a child more acutely than ever before. The old man turned to his wife and said, "Let's go outside and build a snowgirl - it will be like the daughter we never had." So the couple spent the better part of the day carefully sculpting a life-like snowgirl, from her head to her toes.

As they put the finishing touches on their beautiful creation, her lips reddened and she came to life, shaking off the stray bits of snow stuck in her hair.

The man and women were so happy. They took her into their house and watched as she grew from a young child to a beautiful maiden, bringing happiness to every life she touched.

Snegurochka* liked to be outdoors. The chill of winter did not affect her and all the small woodland creatures loved her.

But winter ended, as all seasons do and Snegurochka lost the glow her parents had come to expect.

"What's the matter," they would ask. "Are you not feeling well?"

"No, Mother, no, Father, I'm fine," she would reply.

Finally, it couldn't be hidden. The last snow melted, songbirds returned to the meadow and Snegurochka became a shell of the happy girl she used to be, hiding in drafty corners and coming out only in the dark of night.

Summer arrived, and one day a group of girls called out to Snegurochka, "Come with us for a walk in the woods!"

Snegurochka didn't want to go, but her parents urged her, saying, "Go play with them, dear. You'll have fun."

She followed the girls into the nearest clearing, listening to their happy songs and dances but not joining in, until the sun went down and she saw how joyful the girls truly were. They built a fire in the clearing.

Then, one by one, the other girls began playfully jumping over the small fire they had built. Snegurochka jumped over when it was her turn. As she jumped over the flames, her body dissolved and a white cloud of steam rose towards the sky. A faint good-bye was heard before the cloud rose up and disappeared into the heavens." Fayina yawned, stretching her arms over her head. "The end."

Natalia's closed eyes popped open for a moment. "Well, that was cheery. Great story for the kids."

"Oh, be quiet! I thought you were asleep."

"And miss the end of the fascinating story? Never." Natalia's eyes glittered in the moonlight. "Did I ever tell you I love you? Because I do, you mad puppeteer, you."

"Ours is a love that can never be." Fayina threw another pillow at the lump in the other bed. "Go to sleep, please."

"Fine. Oh."

"Oh, what?" "The housemother said your father called. He wants you to visit him at his theater tomorrow." Natalia turned over, pulling her covers up over her head. Fayina could barely hear her muffled good night.

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To say Fayina was bewildered by her new strength would be an understatement. Confused and elated at the same time, at conservatory she was able to perform feats unimaginable just yesterday. Her puppets danced across the stage, their movements quick and precise. Her arms did not tire and her steps on the scaffolding were silent and graceful. She felt like herself for the first time in her life. This was how she was meant to feel.

She slipped out after the class into the night air, avoiding the questioning stares of her fellow students, content to savor the freak powers bestowed upon her. She smiled to herself as she sauntered down the pathway to her father's small independent theater. She cracked open the door and peeked around the corner, yelling out after she made sure the small performance area was empty. "Papa? Are you here? Natalia said you called last night."

A crash and a few thumps later, her father stomped out from backstage. "Dooshenka**! I wasn't expecting you so soon. Since when do you listen to me?" He put a small wolf puppet down on one of the empty chairs and stumbled over to Fayina's side. "Such a beautiful girl. Has to leave her father all alone to go to some big name school in the city. Am I not good enough for you?"

Fayina's cheery mood ended in seconds. "Papa, are you drinking?"

"Just a little vodka. Can't a man have his vodka?" He slumped down in the chair next to the wolf puppet, fingering the fur around it's tiny muzzle. "The theater is gone, Fayina. I can't afford to pay the...the property anymore. I just thought you should hear it from me and not one of your professors."

"Oh." She felt the back of the chair cracking from the force of her grip. "Is there something I can do?"

He scoffed, "I don't think so. No. The theater is gone. And I need to leave Moscow as soon as possible." He picked the puppet off the chair and turned to face his daughter. "I just thought you might like some of the puppets."

"Yes. I would like them. Do you still have Mama's chest?" He cringed at her words and turned back to the stage.

"That is not for you. I don't want you..." He trailed off. "Your mother was a great woman with many secrets. What is in that chest could get you killed, just like it did her."

"But, Papa--"

"No buts. You may have the puppets. The chest burns with the theater." She ground her teeth, surprising herself by ripping the back off the chair. She stared down at the rough piece of wood in her hand. Her father heard the screech of splitting wood and gaped at her with large eyes.

"Fayina! Are you...how did you...what are you?" He cried out. "Not my daughter. Please. She doesn't deserve this!" He flew out of the chair and grabbed the ornate cross from the wall, pressing it against her face.

"Papa, what are you doing?"

"You're so strong and it's dark and it can't be. It just can't be."

"What can't be?" She pushed away the cross and the man slumped down to the floor. "What is it, Papa? Why won't you tell me?"

"Because I don't want it to be true. I thought you were too old. You are nineteen...far too old. What is happening in this world that they make a 19 year old a slayer?" He clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wild with fear and vodka.

Fayina closed her eyes, mind flashing back to her dream last night. A new image filled her head of a blond, smiling quietly in front of a giant canyon. "Slayer?"

Her father pulled himself off the floor and reached out to his daughter's face. "Yes. Slayer. One girl in all the world chosen to fight the vampires."

"Are you sure you're not just drunk?"

"I am not yet drunk enough. Have you been feeling odd lately? Stronger than usual?"

"Yes. It happened last night. But how do you know this, Papa? Vampires are a legend, like Baba Yaga or Snegurochka. You've always told me this."

Nikolai pushed past his daughter to the closet in the corner. He opened the door and slid open a small panel, pulling out a small chest. He sighed as he opened the top and took out a small black journal. "This was your mother's. It should explain everything. She was a member of an organization called the Watcher's Council. Every slayer has a watcher and your mother...she had a slayer. Oksana. She died before you were born and your mother was never the same. She just...stopped caring. One day, she didn't come home. And I don't want you to end up like Oksana or your mother."

He threw the chest at Fayina, who caught it without looking. "Papa, how could she leave us?"

"I don't know." He sighed, sitting down heavily.

She stood behind her father's chair, clutching the small box to her chest.

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Fayina stayed in again that night, rummaging through the box of scattered notes and small weapons. She devoured every word written in her mother's diary. After reading about the death of Oksana for the third time, she curled under her covers, eyes wide open. She was a slayer. She was going to die.

"Fay, are you here?" Natalia crept next to the bed, sitting on the floor and looking up at Fayina. "You are obviously here. Are you alright?"

"I don't know." Natalia grabbed Fayina's hand and silently encouraged her to go on. "I feel so alone. And scared. It feels like nothing will ever be right again."

Fayina closed her eyes as Natalia stroked the back of her hand. "You are not alone. I'm with you. I'll always be with you. As long as you need me. I really do love you, you know." Fayina felt herself start to drift off. "Tell me a story, Nat."

"All right--" Fayina was asleep before Natalia could say 'once upon a time.' She dreamed of endless movement in a yellow school bus.

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* Snow Maiden ** Little Soul (term of endearment)