Chapter Text
“It’s me, mother! Your precious Alexandreya!” the woman cawed, her nasally voice echoing through the old, empty ballroom. Poe turned away as he rolled his eyes. This whole scheme already seemed hopeless. At first, he’d thought it might be his terrible script writing skills, but no. No, these women were just the worst. This is why you don’t audition prostitutes as princesses, he chided himself.
“Okay!” he declared, probably sounding a bit too eager. He just wanted it to be over. “Thank you ladies! We’ll let you know,” Poe said dismissively, ushering them towards their coats.
Finn joined him at his side, the two sharing a look of uncertainty.
One of the girls approached them, coat in hand, “Do you know how illegal what you’re doing is? Because of you , I lost my best hours on the street,” she sneered, her eyes darting from Poe to Finn. “If your friend here weren’t so handsome, I’d report you!”
“Out,” he practically snarled.
She and the other women turned their noses up indignantly, before storming off. He was fuming at their audacity, but when he turned to his best friend for help, the other man was biting back a smirk.
Poe pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as he walked over to the dusty couch with stuffing protruding from every cushion. Despite its condition, it was still one of the nicest things he’d ever slept on, and for that, he was grateful. He laid back on the couch, allowing his tense muscles to relax for once. Poe reached down into his bag on the floor and pulled out the special item they’d purchased at the market that afternoon.
It was a music box, apparently from the very palace where the Solonov family had resided. It was gold, and had been decorated with pearls and royal blue enamel. They’d bought it off one of the palace scavengers for a few cans of beans, a trade that they never would have made in any situation but this. Poe had insisted that they needed something of Alexandreya’s to show the Tsarina, or Dowager Empress as he’d learned she was now called.
“I still can’t believe you let that guy sell you that thing,” Finn said, shaking his head.
“Why?”
“It’s engraved with an ‘R’! Hello? Her name started with an ‘A’ if I must remind you,” his friend complained. He’d already been miffed at the fact that Poe had traded away precious food for an item that was of no real value to them, but he was pissed when he realized his friend had probably gotten conned.
“It could’ve been a nickname… or something,” Poe mumbled, earning an eye roll from his best friend as he tinkered with the box.
“Whatever it is, you need to stop messing with it before you break it.”
“I can’t get it open,” he sighed, resigning the box to a place on his chest.
“It’s a fake!” Finn declared in exasperation.
“How do you know?”
“Nobody spots a fake like Count Finn Stormonov,” he said, using the regal royal accent he’d employed when conning his way around the royals. “Biggest fake of them all.”
Poe chuckled despite himself. He often felt pity for his best friend. His father had weaseled his way into the Solonov Court as a count, and had brought Finn along with him. He’d lived a life of luxury provided by others for most of his life, but it all had come crashing down during the revolution.
“I’ve never actually heard you use that voice before,” he commented, honestly a bit impressed.
“It’s because that man died a long time ago,” Finn sighed, taking a seat in one of the few chairs that remained in the ballroom. “Ah, the day I took off with you,” he smirked, shaking his head.
“It was me or a Bolshevik firing squad,” he quipped, remembering the day he’d saved Finn from one of the many Bolshevik executions carried out on the “bourgeoisie”.
“You saved my life,” Finn remarked, a softness to his voice.
Perhaps they would’ve recalled old memories, stories about their camaraderie, the mischief and havoc they got themselves into at the mere ages of 18. He supposed he’d never know, because what happened next would change everything. Forever.
Suddenly, a hard knock at the door. A knock like that only had one source: Bolsheviks .
“Dammit, those women ratted on us!” Poe loudly whispered, leaping up from his position.
“Maybe they’ll actually feed us in jail!” Finn replied, ducking behind a large pile of debris that had gathered in the ballroom.
Poe hid himself between the backside of the couch, and the white sheet that had been draped over it. The wall immediately behind him provided far more cover, so it wasn’t the worst hiding spot in the world. From his position, he had a concealed view of the entryway from which the knock had occurred. He waited, the sound of his heartbeat in his ears gave the illusion of a thousand soldiers marching down the hallway. But they never came.
There was no legion of soldiers. No squad of secret police. Not even a single Bolshevik lackey. Instead, it was a girl.
The wind carrying through the cracked, and sometimes entirely missing, windows of the Yusupov Palace made a howling sound that reminded Rey of nights in the forests of Siberia. A shiver ran up her spine, and for once it wasn’t the cold. Dasha had told her she could find a man named Poe Dameron here, and he could get her the exit papers she needed to finally escape Russia. So she’d come, under the cover of recently fallen darkness to avoid suspicion. For a while, she’d wandered aimlessly, unsure of where to go and trying not to get lost in the maze of what was still the nicest building she’d ever entered. That was, until she heard voices. She’d silently followed the sound towards what she discovered was the ballroom.
Rey knocked hard on the door, not wanting to startle whoever was inside. Then the voices went silent. For a moment, she questioned if she’d ever actually heard them in the first place. Heaven knows she’d heard quite a few voices over what little she remembered of her life. Some days she couldn’t tell them from her own conscience. But that day wasn’t today. She took a deep breath and further steeled her resolve, do what you have to do.
She pushed open one of the large wooden doors and was welcomed with a groan from its old and tired hinges. Only after it clanked shut behind her did she look about the room. There was no one. There was little sign of anyone, actually. The room was dimly lit entirely by moonlight streaming in from the windows that bordered the top of every wall. However, she could smell the smoke from recently snuffed candles.
Rey walked further into the massive room, scanning it for any sign of life. It was only then that a man appeared, suddenly. He had dark brown skin, a kind yet handsome face, and cropped black hair, something that she hadn’t seen often in Russia. Despite his sudden appearance, she didn’t think he wanted to hurt her. His stance was far more defensive than offensive.
“I’m looking for Poe Dameron,” she rambled out quickly, on edge from the entire ordeal.
The man opened his mouth to speak, but another voice answered instead, “That’s me”.
Rey whipped her head to her right to see another man, recently emerged from wherever he’d been hiding. Now this man was… different. He had tan olive skin, curls that were a deep brown and seemed to be highlighted with silver from the moon, and dark features that were only accentuated by the dimly lit room. He was ruggedly handsome, unlike anyone she’d ever seen.
“What do you want?” he asked, probably angry at her for sneaking up on them.
“I need exit papers and I was told that you could help,” she said, her words feeling like an unstoppable flurry coming out of her mouth.
“Exit papers aren’t cheap.”
Rey reached into her secret pocket, pulling out all the money she had saved, “Here, 150 rubles.”
Poe scoffed, giving her an incredulous look, “You’re gonna need a whole lot more than that for the right papers.”
As she reached into her pocket to return the money, her hand brushed against the cold, hard object at the bottom. For a moment, she considered it. But, no, no it’s too valuable. It would wait for another day.
“Look, I’m a hard worker, you’ll get your money,” she pleaded, striding behind him to the couch where he was now reclined, his hands behind his head.
“What do you do?” he sighed, looking up at her.
“I’m a street sweeper,” she admitted quietly. Deep down, she knew that she’d easily starve to death before she even came close to affording those papers.
“A street sweeper?” he bellowed sarcastically, earning a small chuckle from his friend, whose name she still didn’t know.
“I worked in a factory in Odessa, and before that I was a mechanic in Perm,” Rey explained, trying to broaden her potential for being useful, and mechanic still might not have been the best word. She’d been hired to take things apart and sell the pieces, but she could’ve put them back together just as easily.
“Well Sunshine, you’re a long way from Perm,” he told her, looking off to the side.
“Yeah, I know, I walked it,” she Rey defiantly. She took a step forward at the same time, daring him to look her in the eyes and take her seriously.
Suddenly, Poe fell silent. It took a few moments before he asked, “You walked here all the way from Perm?” He was shocked, and she could tell once he finally looked her in the eyes.
“I had no choice.”
He finally removed his hands from behind his head, sitting forward and looking far less nonchalant than he had previously, “What are you running from?”
She hesitated to explain, knowing how it would sound, but eventually gave in, “Running to someone. I don’t know who they are. All I know is they’re waiting for me in Paris.”
Poe’s mouth cracked into a smile, then he was laughing, “Listen to her, Finn, she’s crazy!”
Anger was starting to boil inside of her, and Rey was not the type to get angry.
“I am not crazy!” she half-shouted. “Why are you so difficult ?”
“We were hoping you might be someone else,” his friend, Finn, piped up.
“Who?” she asked, turning to where he was now sitting.
“Someone who…” he trailed off. “God, she might not even exist.”
The wind began howling again, and she turned towards the window where it might have come from. That was the first time she’d fully seen the ballroom. Wait! She recognized this place.
“I’ve been here before…” Rey said, her voice soft and low as she looked around the ballroom. “There was dancing, laughter…”
“This was the grand ballroom of Prince Felix Yusupov,” Finn explained in a much more regal sounding voice than he’d used before. Suddenly, instead of silver moonlight, the room was bathed in the golden glow of massive candelabras.
“I-I know,” she stammered. “Somehow I…”
Another memory!
“There were men, professors! They spoke about philosophy, I listened. One in particular was… very kind,” she recalled. The man, she didn’t know his face. Simply bits of memories. Gray hair, a beard to match, kind eyes, a flash of a smile, the sound of a hearty laugh. Kindness. Love.
She figured she must’ve looked dazed, because the next thing she heard was Poe grumble, “Jesus, she’s going to faint on us.”
Suddenly he was at her side, a firm yet gentle hand wrapped around her arm and another ghosting over her lower back as he guided her towards the couch he’d been sitting on. He lowered her onto the cushion, before releasing her arm. She looked up at him, and their gazes connected. Somewhere in his eyes, deep in their brown pools, she saw a glimmer of compassion.
“I’ll go fetch some water,” he said, the begrudging tone mostly gone from his voice.
Finn passed by Poe as he walked towards Rey, carrying a thin blanket that had been sitting on a table, “Here,” he said, draping it over her himself. “It’s not much, but it should help.”
“Thank you,” she replied, smiling at him. “You’re very kind, even if your friend is not so inclined.”
Finn sighed, a somber expression playing across his face, “Don’t be too hard on Poe, life hasn’t been easy for him.”
“Life hasn’t been easy for any of us,” she responded, the sound of footsteps alerting her to the other man’s presence in the room. There was also a scratching sound that she couldn’t quite place.
Just then, she saw Poe walking towards them, trailed by a small white dog with large orange spots. As soon as it spotted her, it began barking and charged off in her direction. Suddenly, the dog lept up onto the couch, assaulting her face with its excited tongue.
Rey giggled furiously as the dog left sloppy kisses everywhere.
“I think she likes you,” Finn chuckled.
“What’s her name?” Rey asked, once the dog had finally settled down and was panting in her lap.
“Beatrix,” Poe said, handing her a glass of water that was… actually clear? “But we just call her BB for short.”
Rey took her moment of reprieve from the dog’s attention to gulp down most of the water in the glass. She hadn’t experienced water this fresh-tasting since she’d melted Siberian snow. There were communal taps everywhere in St. Petersburg, but the water was hardly safe for drinking, and she’d usually have to pay someone to boil it clean for her.
“You still haven’t told us yours,” Poe said, sitting down on the other end of the sofa, just close enough to reach out and rub BB’s ears.
“My name?” she asked. He nodded in response.
Rey sighed, looking down at her hands, “I don’t know.”
“You… don’t know?” Finn asked, leaning forward in the chair he’d pulled closer.
“They gave me a name at the hospital,” she explained, the hollow, empty feeling that had followed her around making itself present in her mind. “Rey. The doctors told me I had amnesia, and there was nothing they could do.”
“Well, Rey,” Finn said softly, “Tell us what you do remember.”
She had to swallow the painful lump in her throat. She’d never told anyone these things, she’d never known anyone long enough to do so. Dasha was the only person who really even knew half of it. Still, she needed those exit papers, and they seemed kind enough, so she felt she could trust them, at least for the time being.
“The nurses told me that a farmer found me face down in the snow along the side of a road. He thought I might’ve just fallen off a wagon and knocked myself out, but there were tracks everywhere. And blood,” she told them. “I could only stay in the hospital for so long, and once I was healthy, they sent me on my way. After that, I tried to pick up jobs anywhere I could, and I only stole when I had to. Slowly, I made my way here. I slept in the woods, in trees, caves, anywhere I could find.”
“What about this person, waiting for you in Paris?” Poe asked, the sarcasm in his voice replaced with genuine curiosity. “How do you know of them?”
Another pang in her heart. “I see flashes, bits and pieces of memories at night. In my dreams I see a city bathed in the warm glow of lights. A bridge that seems to be calling my name. But most of all, there’s a voice. A woman, with a voice like music, and she whispers, ‘I’ll meet you there. One day, we’ll be together in Paris’.”
“That sounds… beautiful,” Finn said.
Rey bit the inside of her cheek, but it was no use, “No,” she choked out, holding back her tears. “It’s not. You don’t know what it’s like, having no idea about who you are. I’ve been living in the shadows for as long as I can remember. And my dreams, they aren’t just Paris. There are flashes, and sounds, and screams echoing in my head. The feeling of something… terrible.”
They had no response to that, and she had nothing else to say. That hollowness, she might spend the rest of her life wishing it away. No , she reminded herself, the answers are in Paris . She had those dreams for a reason. They’d lead her to where she was meant to go, to finding out who she truly was. She just had to get there first.
“Why don’t you get some rest, okay?” Finn offered, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll talk more about those exit papers in the morning.”
Rey looked up at his kind eyes and nodded. She didn’t need to be told twice.