I’m joining @jomiddlemarch and @vesperass-anuna and adding my bit to @ana-kareninas prompt “petition to let aleksander morozova have a nap”.
There is a scene in Beauty of Starless Nights that fits perfectly (including a petition), so I have written it ahead. It won’t happen before Chapter 6 or 7 (which means next year given how slow I write).
Note to avoid confusion: Beauty of Starless Nights is a post-war story where Aleksander is in a political marriage with the Fjerdan princess Frida, who is a widow with a seven-year-old daughter Essi.
Ivan heard a knock on the door. He frowned. It was three in the morning, which meant it must be something serious. Nobody would dare to disturb him at this hour if they didn't have a very good reason for it.
It was the General's wife. She looked frustrated, angry and… determined. A most dangerous combination.
"Ivan Semyonovich," she said, pleadingly. "I am sorry to wake you up at this hour, but I need your help. The General needs your help."
Ivan was concerned. "Has something happened to him?"
Frida's answer was cryptic. "The problem is that something did not happen."
He waited for an explanation, and an explanation did, indeed, follow.
"He hasn't slept for… I am not certain for how many nights. I have lost count. And he just plainly refuses to go to bed. Sometimes I think I will end up burning all those bloo… all those papers!"
Ivan smiled inwardly at the way she caught herself just before she finished the swear word. So much like Essi. He was aware that she was perfectly capable of burning all those bloody papers. It often happened that he wished to burn them, too. And all of his bloody papers as well. He was happy the war was over, and Ravka could finally breathe, but he never anticipated that peace would involve a never-ending stream of paperwork. Sometimes he had the impression that the documents were procreating when he didn't look.
Frida continued her story.
"And even when he goes to bed, he is so extremely exhausted that sleep eludes him. This is where you come in, Ivan Semyonovich. You have the gift to make people fall asleep. Your assistance is of utmost importance."
Ivan had doubts. "I dare say that my presence will have no effect on the situation. The General is…" He was to say stubborn, but he would never utter such criticism of his closest friend. Least of all in front of his wife.
"The General is stubborn as a mule!" said Frida, her eyes flashing.
"But he might listen if we present a united front?" she suggested.
Frida sighed. "I'd say there is no harm in trying? This is, after all, the Palace of Hope."
He winced. The horrid blue facade materialised in front of his inner eye. Who cared that blue was the colour of hope? It didn't mean it looked good on buildings.
When they arrived in the General's study, they found a pale man with messy hair and deep dark circles under his eyes, who was murmuring something along the lines of I just need to read this one document and Frida, you really shouldn't have bothered Ivan, it's past midnight and No, I do not need any help, thank you.
What followed was inevitable.
A porcelain cup was snatched from the table and thrown in the General's direction.
Another cup joined his brethren on their last journey.
Ivan was surprised there was still some porcelain left to be smashed. He hoped that at least the Kirigans didn't spend too much on pottery. With Frida's temper it would make little sense to buy anything of value. Whoever supplied them must make a very nice living.
For all her trouble, Lady Kirigan didn't manage to hit the target. The General was a soldier, after all. And Frida's technique left a lot to be desired. Essi would have done much better, Ivan thought proudly.
Since violence had failed, Frida turned to threats.
"Lord husband," she said in an official tone. "As a citizen of Ravka I can file a petition to the Senate just as anybody else. If you are not willing to see reason right now, I will formally ask them to order you to acquire a more healthy sleep schedule! There's a Citizens' Welfare Committee, isn't there? Let them, for once, earn their salary."
Ivan had little doubt that Frida was fully capable of bringing that plan to fruition. The General must have shared this opinion, or maybe he was just too tired to oppose his hot-headed wife.
He blinked, and then he laughed.
"Fine, fine. I'm giving up!" he said, resigned to his fate.
Frida ushered him to the bedroom as if he were a child. "Ivan Semyonovich, come with us."
Once the General changed into his dressing gown (Honestly! Do you really want to sleep in that kefta you've been wearing for who knows how long?) and lay in his bed, nicely tucked in, Ivan could do his part.
"Can you make him not have nightmares?" Frida whispered. "He has them all the time."
"I do not have such powers," Ivan replied. "But I put him in a deep sleep, and in deep sleep there are no dreams, nightmares or otherwise."
"Thank you," Frida said softly.
Ivan eyed her thoughtfully. He hadn't been able to figure out the woman ever since he saw her for the first time. She was always polite unless she was smashing stuff, and seemed to get along quite well with her spouse. And yet she still addressed him as Aleksander Ilyich or Lord husband, and to all accounts didn't spend much time in his bedroom.
But if this night was anything to go by, love him she may not, but she did care.
"You should retire, too, my Lady," Ivan said. "Will you be needing my help as well?"
She shook her head. "But thank you for your kind offer, Ivan Semyonovich. I do appreciate it."
She was about to leave for the adjoining bedroom, when his words stopped her in her tracks and made her turn around.
"My Lady," he said. "Should you wish to break… fragile objects again, you are welcome to join me. I sometimes… pursue this activity in my free time. Except I use empty bottles of alcohol."
"With pleasure," Frida smiled.
"I can also... teach you to improve your aim. Should you wish so."
He half-expected something to be thrown at him. A pillow, maybe? There was nothing breakable in sight. Maybe as a precaution measure.
No such action was taken, however, and the deal was sealed with a handshake.
Frida knew as well as Ivan did that it meant that he was finally willing to like her.
