That Damn Imp

XII

o0o

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.

"So..." he said with a drawl, looking up as Koshka did one of her rounds and came near him, "what are we celebrating? There a holiday I don't know about?"

He wiggled his eyebrows, switching to Latin, "Or did you just decide to have a party because I showed up?"

"It's one of the things you have to do as a merchant. Business connections can be made in the banquet room as well as the marketplace, and sometimes this is the better venue to do so. You know, the song and dance humans do. Been going on for thousands of years and will be going on for thousands more." She gave an easy shrug switching over to Latin as well, "It also gives me a great chance to size up the people who think that because I'm a woman, I'll be 'easy for them to deal with'. Hah." Her eyes twinkled as she looked over at Puck. "So you could say that this banquet gives me a chance to see who I will be playing with." Several of the men were getting drunk, arguing about this or that. "Besides, the winters in Russia are cold and long. I need to find ways to amuse myself with. And Eleni seems to have taken a liking to you." But then, what woman wouldn't when the guest they were attending was polite and charming, his flirtations well-mannered?

Puck was glamoured to look like a human, his ears looking normal instead of long, and his hair dark as opposed to its usual silver, but he'd maintained most of his usual features – the young, handsome face, the twinkling blue eyes, the playful smile. Even a couple of the men were looking at him with a touch of desire.

Naturally, people were wondering why he had been given such a favored spot, given that no one had ever seen him before in Moscow or elsewhere.

"She could join us when we go roll around in the velvet if you like," he suggested, pulling his gaze away from Koshka long enough to favor the serving girl with a grin. "And if you're going to be playing with anyone, I would really rather it be me. I doubt these others would have the endurance to keep up with you."

"Oh, I wasn't speaking of that kind of playing, mind you." She playfully wagged her finger at him. "I'm taking more of financial ruin, destroyed marriages... you know. The kind of thing that happens when you try to screw a demon over. Haven't you noticed how most of the men behave here? Imagine the crap I get for having the audacity to not stay shut up in my house like a good, proper Muscovite woman of high society." she tapped her chin. "But by all means, go play with Eleni. It's not proper for a woman to do so, but I'm an understanding mistress and won't stand in the way of my girls having some fun for themselves." She picked a piece of salmon off her plate and fed it to a cat wandering under the table. Cats were welcome protectors of larders in Russia; when winter came and mice and rats looked for warm places to live – and pantries to raid – cats would chase them away or eat them. And there was no denying the pleasure of a warm cat curled up in one's lap or on one's feet on these cold nights.

"Tempting?" he tapped his lips, pondering. "Though I'd much rather you'd join us. Or it just be me and you. No offense to Eleni, but she's only human... and you're far prettier. Besides," he added, "this is the first time you've let me get this close in many, many years. I've gotta have worn you down some by now?"

"I called you a friend before, didn't I?" she shot back. The banquet went on, offering her some entertainment as she baited some of the men into arguments while Puck watched. She really was a sassy demon, that one. When one of the men challenged her by telling her she needed a husband to keep her in line and tire her out in bed so she wouldn't have to go outside, she retorted that there was not a man in the world who could keep her in line or satisfy her in bed, which drew some ribald hoots and jeers, especially as the man in question was quite fat, his fingers greasy from the meat he'd been overindulging in.

Eventually, the dinner wound down, and guests started filtering out, the servants cleaning up after them, and being told by Koshka they could keep the leftovers for themselves or their families.

"It's almost like cockfighting. Only better," Koshka laughed as the last guest had left. She remained near the stove, relaxing with Puck as she petted a cat in her lap. "Throw one man against another and let the feathers fly."

"It can certainly be entertaining," he shrugged. "I've set my fair share of humans against one another over the years. It's pretty easy, but still worth a laugh sometimes." He leaned back in his seat, "I notice you're not immediately shooting down my advances. What's the deal with that? Nice name, by the way. Koshka. It means cat, huh? You certainly have claws!"

"I don't know." She rubbed her cat's tummy. "Perhaps because I'm bored, and it's a long, dark winter. And cockfighting is only amusing for so long. You're a breath of fresh air in this place."

"I see," he nodding, grinning at her suggestively. She might have her origins in the East, but like many long-lived beings, would occasionally yearn for more exotic climes. "That must be it. And how far is my freshness going to get me? Should I be getting my hopes up?"

"I'm not promising anything. But perhaps, just perhaps I might give you a hug... eventually." she teased.

"Hmm," he murmured, "it's a start. If I may make a suggestion... a naked hug? In the velvet?"

"Oh dear," Koshka replied in mock exasperation. "I can see mentioning the velvet was a mistake. Well, since I can see you want to play with my puss so much, here you go." She deposited the cat in Puck's lap, where it started to headbutt his chest for attention. "I'm going upstairs to the roof, it's getting warm in here. Come join me when you're done admiring my puss." She winked at him before rising from her seat and taking a huge bearskin cloak and disappearing. Eleni was sweeping the floor, glancing over at Puck. "The mistress doesn't allow men in her bed, I'm afraid to say. Many men before you have tried, and failed."

"Those men weren't me," Puck replied, watching Eleni work. "But whether or not she spurns my advances, I'm certain I'll find a pleasurable way to spend the evening."

After several minutes, the imp joined her outside on the rooftop, gazing over the city, the silhouette of the Kremlin – the castle-fortress of the Tsar – visible under the moonlight. She noticed with some bemusement that he was back in his thick fur hat with the ear-flaps. Oddly, it was quite a charming look for him.

"Were my charms getting to be too much for you? Had to slip away before you finally gave in?"

She smiled as she heard him. "Give in? I doubt it, imp. But I've been in that room all night." She took a deep breath before exhaling, her breath coming out as a mist in the freezing air. "You really do look darling in that hat, you know."

"I do, don't I?" he agreed, nuzzling up against her, and she allowed it. "It's pretty up here when you don't really have to worry about the cold. Could call the view..." he glanced at her, smirking, "romantic, even."

"Mmmhm." The moon was nearly full, affording an excellent view of Moscow, as well as the cathedral and the Kremlin. "And since it's so cold, want to share my cloak?" She'd chosen the huge cloak for exactly that reason. "Come sit with me." There was a bench, and she swiped the snow from it before sitting down.

As she expected, Puck needed no further invitation, and promptly took his place next to her.

"Better wrap me up good and tight; this cold can be dangerous, you know."

They both knew it could do nothing to him, but it seemed as good a reason as any.

"You're right, a Russian winter night can be very dangerous. Let's make sure nothing happens to you, hmm?" She wrapped the cloak around themselves, bundling them up in a thick layer of bear fur that had a quilted underside. "And I would be a very poor host if I let a guest get frostbite."

Beneath the cloak, he ran an arm around her waist. "It'd be rude of me not to do my part in keeping you warm too," he nodded, leaning against her, murmuring contently. "Mmm... you're so comfy," he whispered, squeezing.

She did not push him away, and relaxed into his embrace, letting her own arm wrap around his middle. They sat together for a while, simply enjoying one another's presence. Course, it didn't hurt that she had on several layers of clothing, giving Puck very little if any chance of groping or molesting her. Not that she might have minded too much... which made her thankful for Russian fashion. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, letting him get this close, but she was feeling bold.

"So what's this I hear about changes in the West? Lots of paintings and sculptures and... enlightenment and all that? And if I remember correctly, England now has a queen ruling in her own right." Elizabeth had ascended the throne over five years ago, but she would not be the only female monarch gracing the world stage in the 16th century.

"Yes, it's all becoming very artsy, philosophical, liberal... comparatively speaking. All the religious and land conflicts aside, the Renaissance has truly been a revival for man. I think you'd like it. Definitely beats sitting around in the snow, not taking men into your bed," he nudged her playfully. "What's the deal with that, by the way? Strictly making time with the ladies these days?"

"I just don't have a taste for bears. As for the ladies... I don't kiss or tell," she replied, seeing Puck's eyes gleam impishly at that comment.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes on the ladies," he grinned. "You know, if it really been a while, I could maybe... provide you some release?" He ran a hand firmly down her back and murmured pleasurably at the thought.

"Don't tell me you're like the men here who think I can't take care of myself," she mock scolded. There was no actual anger or irritation in her voice, though.

"Of course not. But there's a big difference between taking care of yourself and having someone else join in on the fun. Can only do so much by yourself..." Puck ducked down slightly as if he was going to slip beneath their robes. He was teasing, of course, though she did not doubt that he would follow through with some encouragement.

"Well... you're not wrong, Puck," she said with a mock roll of her eyes, before giving him a firm poke in the side. Despite the clothing he was wearing, she was certain that would tickle him at least a little bit. She was correct, and he squirmed, giggling and trying to dodge her poking.

"So... what do you say then? I guarantee it'll be great fun. I would certainly love the chance to please you…"

"You made that clear to me a thousand years ago. I assure you, I have not forgotten." She gave him several more pokes. "I must say, it's a tempting offer, warming me in this cold place. But I'll be honest – I'm rather bored of Russia at the moment. I've been here for four years, and there's nothing here that is really compelling me to remain. I hear that Spain and Italy are nice in the winters. Perhaps if you take me to a lovely place, I might consider your offer."

"Hmm," he considered this for a moment, raising a finger to tap his lips. "Want to see some of that art and enlightenment you're wondering about. We could go to Italy. Or France, or Spain. You know I'll take you anywhere."

"I hear that Italy is the place to be when it comes to art and weather. I've not been to Venice for several centuries, I wonder how it's changed since then. It's still built on canals, right?"

"It'll always be built on canals. A great deal has changed though." Rustling under the cloak, Puck found her hand and took hold of it. "Shall we?" Already knowing the answer he closed his eyes, allowing them to be enveloped in wind and light.

o0o

In the latter half of the sixteenth century, Venice was no longer the power it had once been, but the ancient city still commanded a level of power and respect. Puck levitated them above the lagoon, and Koshka gave a small gasp as she reacted instinctively to not having any ground under her feet.

"Isn't this so much nicer? For one, it's not so damn cold. Secondly, the people aren't all either drunk, miserable, or both. Thirdly, the city actually has things to offer – art, good meals, music. Hundreds of worthy distractions." With a wave of his hand, he drifted them to the rooftop of one of the ornate manses that surrounded the lagoon.

She took a deep breath before nodding at him. There was a difference of some twenty degrees Celsius between Venice and Moscow, and with their thick clothing, they felt the change in temperature quickly enough. She took off the ornate headdress that many upper-class Russian women wore.

"Aha, yes. You're going to want to get out of that clothing, methinks." He wiggled his eyebrows at her before spinning around, his heavy Russian garments changing into a light-weight assemblage suited for a well-off Italian gentleman, with a shirt of fine silk and lace. Naturally, he had to create himself a stylish hat, with a large feather hanging off the brim. He did not doubt that he looked a bit foppish, but he also knew many would find him dapper. "Do you trust me enough to spin an appropriate garment for you out of that?" he asked, gesturing to her multilayer dress.

She crossed her arms, staring at him for several moments before nodding slowly. "No mischief, imp." She wagged her finger.

"I would not dream of it." He waved his hand, manipulating the fabric of her garments, shedding some of it while forming the rest into an attractive dress which would be considered stylish by the Venetian nobility, and he did it all without exposing her skin.

The bodice was of the same rose satin as her former dress, gold and silver threading worked along it and the shoulders. The flowing sleeves and skirt were made of silk with a velvet overlay, draped comfortably. She slowly turned around as she looked down at what he'd just created for her.

"Fashions change so often and you always seem a step ahead." She smirked. "Is there something you want to tell me about your knowledge about dresses?" she teased.

He grinned and gestured to himself with a flourish.

"How do I look?" he inquired. "Am I dressed well enough to accompany you?"

She gave out an approving smile. "You look quite dashing, I will admit. If you weren't such an imp, you would do very well in the clothes business," she observed.

"And now you're complimenting and admiring me," he spun on one foot, then quickly closed the distance between them. For a moment, his chest pressed against hers. "Won't be long before you're rolling around in the velvet with me."

Respectfully, he quickly backed off. His hands behind his back, he swayed slightly, watching the crowd go by on the walks below them. "So, where would you like to go? What do you want to do? It's all on me, of course," he teased.

"Well, I've quite had it with vodka, borscht, and bear meat. I'm sure you know somewhere I can enjoy some Mediterranean cooking. And perhaps a boat ride in the lagoon. The seas up north are all frozen over."

"Dinner, a boat ride... then what?" he grinned at her suggestively, if only for a moment. Then his hand reached out and took hers. "M'lady," he gestured towards the stairs that led to the roof. His grip was gentle, allowing her the chance to pull away if she so chose.

The location Puck had chosen was impeccable, as they found themselves in a banquet and dance when they reached the ground floor of the Doge's mansion. The Italian cooking was flavorful, seasoned with various spices from the East and the West, and the music was better than in Russia, at least in his personal opinion. Koshka's Italian was rusty after not using it for a couple of centuries, but he was happy to help her brush up on it.

He was quite the nimble dancer and attracted the attention of many women and even a few men, but he had eyes only for Koshka,

A bit tipsy and with full bellies, he led her down to the docks, where a boat awaited them. It was a pleasant twilight sky that hung above their heads as the boat floated along the waves. Murmuring contently at his buzz, Puck took her hand a bit and gave it a more confident squeeze.

"So, how much drunker do I need to get you to take advantage of me?" he inquired, sliding a wine bottle out of his jacket with his free hand. "Something for the boat ride," he explained, giving the bottle just a slight shake.

"What, the pleasure of friendly companionship doesn't satisfy you?" she shot back as she sat down in the boat on the cushions that had been set for them. She was a lovely sight in the low-cut Italian dress, the fabric flowing along her arms and legs. "Why ruin our friendship by taking things further?"

"When did I say that?" he scoffed. "I'm having a great time. Though for what it's worth, I don't think you can ruin a friendship with sex. That's like trying to ruin strawberries by dipping them in sweet whipped cream."

"Strawberries in cream. That's not the worst comparison... but some people don't like cream much," she retorted.

He smirked before taking a sip of the sweet wine, and he offered up the bottle. "I could always get us some strawberries if that's your preference. And whatever you might care to dip them in…"

She smiled and leaned her head against her hand. "You're very cute, you know that?" she said with an affectionate murmur. "No matter how many times, you just keep coming back to me. Just about anyone else would have given up long ago."

"That's because I can't stop pining for you," he nodded firmly, a bowl with strawberries manifesting in his lap. He held up a strawberry by its fat end, moving it slowly toward her mouth. She stared down at the fruit before opening her mouth, allowing him to feed her. She picked up one, and offered it to him, carefully holding it between her fingers.

He hesitated as well, considering whether or not to go after her fingers. In the end, he took the strawberry, albeit slowly. He offered another, watching the city pass by as they went between the berries and the wine.

"You've gotta admit, this is a very enjoyable evening for the two of us," he teased, sticking out his tongue.

"You certainly aren't any poorer of a companion than you are as a guest, in any case," she remarked as the two of them shared the berries.

"Should I take that as a compliment? Or is the implication that I'm just as bad a guest as I am a companion?" he raised his eyebrows questioningly, taking a bit from another strawberry.

"You were a very good guest at my banquet," she assured him. "My maids could not keep their eyes off you, and the bears were quite jealous of the hare," she remarked. She picked up a strawberry, biting into the plump fruit.

"Yes, I seemed to be drawing a great deal of attention. Though not necessarily from the source I'd prefer," he teased, nudging her slightly. In fact, he had had a great deal of her attention at the banquet and his tone suggested he was rather grateful.

"Mmm," he watched her lick and eat the strawberry. "Now you're just teasing me."

"You're fun to tease, imp." She rested her head lightly on his shoulder. "At the very least, you make me smile, and let me forget that I am old."

"You're not old," he replied, smiling softly. "Yes, there are younger women. They don't compare to you, though. If only you weren't so prone to teasing without following through," he grinned, quirking his eyebrows once again.

"As I said before, why ruin what we already have?" She leaned back against the cushion, taking a sip of wine. "You come and go, flirt with me a bit, and go on your way to chase after other pretty girls. And I go about helping mortals wreak bloody vengeance. Life goes on."

"And as I suggested before, this setup would only be improved by the occasional night of wild, amazing sex," he grinned, nipping at a strawberry. "Life would still go on. Just better than before."

She smirked and patted her lap. "Come and rest your head here," she offered, nibbling on a strawberry, wiggling her eyebrows at him, a playful glint in her eyes. Risking the fact that this was a trap, he quickly did as she requested, moving to her side and leaning onto her lap. At first, teasingly, he laid face-down, squirming and murmuring slightly. Knowing her intent, he turned his head to the side.

"You're so comfy," he murmured, wrapping an arm around her back and giving her a squeeze.

She smiled and lightly stroked his brow and hairline with the tip of her fingers, her touch light and friendly as she let him relax against her. It was nice, this friendly cuddling. She ran her finger along his nose and jawline, idly feeding him the last strawberry. He ate it slowly, taking the time to savor both the taste and her companionship. He nuzzled against her hand, playfully nipping and kissing in the direction of her finger, always leaving her with the chance to pull away if she so chose.

"This is nice," he mumbled, unaware she was thinking much the same. Of course, they both knew he was hoping things would ultimately go further. "We should eventually move this cuddling to the comfort of a nice, warm bed. No pressure though, it's just a friendly suggestion I hope you will consider." He looked up at her, eyes half-lidded with relaxation.

"You're a sweet, charming imp." She ran her finger along his lips, leaning down to faintly brush her lips across his brow.

o0o

Present Day

That evening in Venice ended when Koshka realized how aroused she'd been becoming in Puck's presence, and she quickly disappeared. She'd fought her attraction to Puck for so long, not wishing to be another one of the conquests of a deity known for his passion and skill.

It'd been several weeks since their talk on that Turkish rooftop, and Koshka had finally decided to send him a message, albeit through mundane means. She'd taken the time to consider her options and her future with the man who claimed he loved her with all his heart and was prepared to forsake all others for her.

She thought of the year she'd spent with Malcolm, and the passion they'd shared, and the intimacy they'd connected with on various levels. They had interesting talks about literature, music, television, history, and so on. Malcolm was an excellent conversationalist and had displayed the maturity that she'd actually thought Puck was incapable of.

He'd proven her wrong. Had so for a year, by gum. And she now understood that in the guise of Malcolm, Puck had actually matured. The restrictions he'd put upon himself caused him to grow and adapt in ways that many magical beings did not consider, revealing formerly hidden facets of his character.

She was no stranger to that experience, having often lived in a mortal guise. She looked around her, at the small shop she'd operated for nearly a decade, and the decision she'd made regarding its future. As she became lost in her thoughts again, she heard a chime and looked up.

Malcolm stood before her, clad in a dark gray suit with a red and black paisley tie. His gaze radiated warmth as he regarded her, and she felt her cheeks become pink as she felt the familiar twist in the pit of her stomach. Memories of nights – and days – of pleasure filtered through her consciousness as he took a step towards her.

"Hello, kitten," he said in that refined accent he'd cultivated, a warm rumble beneath the words.

o0o

Aside from the whole summoning a demon bit, everything said in here about Ivan the Terrible is real. Forensic science in the 21st century would reveal that his mother and wife both had high levels of toxins in their remains, but back then, stuff like mercury or arsenic was used as medicine, so whether this poisoning was intentional or not is still up for debate.

If Anastasia Romanovna had not died, Ivan might have been a more moderate ruler, but his paranoia led him to be known for his fanaticism and brutality, although he was actually a decent ruler when he wasn't being crazy. He would lose several more wives and children, which you can be sure did nothing to better his disposition. The word 'Terrible' itself as used in the original Russian to describe Ivan, doesn't mean 'awful' as it would in English, and was a more neutral term referring to the power he held. The more accurate translation would be 'formidable' and Ivan was indeed responsible for expanding and strengthening Russia, so despite the negative things he did, he was still a very important figure in Russian history. Not that I am defending any of the bad things he did/was responsible for, of course.

In the 1580s, Ivan beat his pregnant daughter-in-law for a relatively minor infraction so severely that she miscarried his grandchild. His son – and the woman's husband – tried to intervene, but Ivan struck him in the head. Ivan Ivanov was to die several days later, leaving Ivan the Terrible with a mentally-disabled son as his last heir. After this son died, without any living heirs of his own, Russia was thrown into over a decade of conflict before a distant cousin of Anastasia, Mikhail Romanov, founded the Romanov dynasty which would rule Russia for the next three centuries until the forced abdication of Tsar Nicholas in 1917.

… yeah, yeah, I'll shut up now. It's just really fun what one can learn while doing research :D

Anyway, reviews are always welcome and appreciated, and I thank you all for your support! 3