Promised Part Two (The Great mini-series)
Pairing: Grigor Dymov x fem! reader
Word Count: 3475
Summary: from an anon request, the boorish Emporer Peter has ruined your families alliance with Russia. The only way to save your family and your people is to go to the Russian Court to marry his best friend, Count Grigor Dymov.
content warnings: mentions of sex and families and weddings, swearing. Grigor being shyer than in the canon show but this is my fic and I do what I want.
“Countess Y/F/N Dymov does have a nice ring to it,’ your mother said as the carriage rolled on.
Rocking back and forth, her eyebrows went up and she nodded in approval at the thought. Though you stayed silent, watching the Russian forests pass by. Your fur lined coat felt too heavy as did your scarf. You saw your mother lift a hand opposite of the one holding her novel to scratch at her own scarf. But the air was getting colder. You were definitely in Russia by now.
You glanced down at the latest letter from the gangly Russian count:
Dear Y/F/N,
I hope you and your family are doing well. Upon reading your last letter, you said you were worried about children. There are a few children here. Count Arkady has a little army of his own running about the halls. Who knows when it might happen, but I am sure you will be a fine mother. You may even make friends here. We have plenty of ladies here you may talk to. And we have fine physicians here.
Oh god, that was unconnected somehow? Maybe I should scratch that out.
No, I will keep it. I hope it amuses you. It may make you laugh to see what a silly fool I am. What kind of fool proposes marriage to courtesans? Not you, Georgiana, of course.
But children arriving will be a while from now. I am trying to make everything comfortable for you. It will be hard leaving your family and the pets you mentioned in your last letter. When you and your mother arrive here, you must try some tea. Though you might as well enjoy some vodka as well.
Speaking of vodka, Peter had too much last night and spent the morning chapel services vomiting his stomach out…
A jolt from the carriage made both of you leap in your seats. It was no use re-reading the thing for the tenth time for amusement on a long trip. You put the letter away in your reticule.
Enough time had passed between that fateful dinner. Now here you were, on the road, on your way to the court of Peter.
“Did you hear me? Do you like the sound of Countess Y/F/N Dymov?” she repeated louder, leaning forward.
“Yes,” you agreed obediently.
Your mother bit her lip hesitantly. There was a pause.
“Y/N, you are doing a very brave thing. You’re going to help all of us, and a lot of people…I thank you for it,” she said.
Her eyes blinked and you could see a few tiny tears up there.
“At least I’m not marrying the emperor,” you huffed, “the title alone wouldn’t be worth it.”
She rolled her eyes and scoffed.
“Your grandmother said if you got the Emperor, it would be a nicer ceremony. It would be a grander ceremony, but a miserable marriage after…though no wedding will be as nice as your brothers,” she recalled.
Both of you smiled at the memory. Your mother even set down the novel in her hands to talk to you more.
“He married someone he loves. Now they’re happy together…” you commented.
The past weeks whirled by without the time to savor your last time at home.
First there was a whole wedding to set and celebrate for your brother, then there was studying all the etiquette, customs, and everything you would need for a life in Russia. As well as planning about your own day. A day crawling up that made you shiver slightly at the thought.
But remembering your brother’s childish grin when his bride walked down to greet meet him at the altar, the shivers ceased. How they seemed to fly when they danced with each other. How even their cake tasted sweeter. The fragrance of their flower crowns was still in your nose.
If only your day could be as nice. No alliance. No pressure to go and bind yourself. Just nice.
“It was a wonderful day. She looked very pretty in your dress…do you think the dress we chose will suit the Russian court?” you asked.
Your mother nodded, eyes sparkling at the thought.
“Oh yes, we had to ask every question, but so help me you would at least have a dress you liked! You looked radiant in it- all of the court will love the look of it!” she added.
“It’s very…very elaborate. And heavy. I bet it’s the reason this carriage is about to trip over,” you jested.
You briefly took off your glove to scratch your own neck from a small itch.
“Well, when in Rome…” she said, shrugging.
Having a ceremony with a special dress was one thing, the groom was something else entire. But what of your future husband, Grigor?
Before you could ask about your mother’s analysis of him, there was a sudden whistle from the driver.
Both of you leaned out and stared at the window. The large grey palace was popping in view, distant, but there. Tall, grey, and grand.
Breath hitched, you tried to stare at another thing, a bird flying by or the dirt on the road. But there it was. And your eyes were fixed, like a martyr’s gaze on the burning stake before sainthood.
The place you had to live, where you had to sacrifice your body, autonomy, and soul to a man you only knew for a few days.
Servants rushed in to carry your luggage. You and your mother glanced at each other. Her eyes turned soft and she took your hand and squeezed it as the guards opened the doors and a footman led you up the grand stairs into the throne room.
One opened a chest and your mother pulled out a green portfolio from it, pressing it to her heart.
There was a long hall leading to a sole chair bedecked in gold. The room was dark but sun filtered through windows on the left. Removing your coat and handing it to a servant, you could feel their eyes. Analyzing you in your deep blue dress with white lace on the front tied in a dark blue bow on the chest.
Before the throne, walking out from their peeping, was a line waiting for you was a group of various men as different as a kaleidoscope. One was shorter, dark haired, and bespectacled. One was a priest with a long beard. But in the center was the Emperor Peter and by his side, Count Grigor Dymov in a grey, curled wig.
Walking slowly, you curtsied and kissed Peter’s hand and your mother copied the movement.
Only said man wanted to jump ahead and show you his apartments.
“Your highness, thank you for letting me arrive here and for inviting my mother as a chaperone,” you greeted politely.
From a green portfolio, your mother pulled out a starched parchment and walked to the priest.
“Here is a signed paper from our physician, proving Y/N’s chastity for the marriage. Additionally, I will chaperone her until the ceremony.” she announced proudly.
He looked down, head tilted, but leaning to read it, nodded his head.
Both of you let out a sigh of relief. As awkward as the examination was, it was still a hundred times better with a family doctor then without warning by a stranger.
“Well, cangratu-fucking-lations Grigor. Here is the lady who’s going to suck you cock for life in a week! Go on, greet her!” he half-yelled.
You could feel your mother tense at the vulgarity and wished to disappear.
The hands in front of Grigor that were folded tightened slightly as you walked up to each other, with a slight bow.
He then took your hand, as you placed yours, you could see your own palm tremble a bit. He leant down to kiss it.
“Miss Y/L/N, did you travel well?” he asked.
“It was long, but nice. Lots of forests.” You answered shyly.
He relaxed a little and gave you a small smile. Though part of you felt angry. What if it was the cock sucking comment he was thinking of?
It dropped at you still being serious.
“Well, that’s done. And I’m bored. I’m hungry and want some oysters, goodbye!” the emperor suddenly said, trailing away with the priest and other men behind him like ducklings.
Grigor offered his arm and you accepted it, breath hitching at how close he felt.
“Count Dymov, thank you for the…the welcome. Though look at this place! It’s magnificent!” you mother praised, looking at the details.
He walked slowly out of the room with your mother by your side, admiring the tall windows, wooden walls, and countless paintings and decorations. Courtiers in wigs and wide skirts floated by you like butterflies.
“I was thinking I would show you both my apartment, since it’s where we’ll be living soon, Lady Y/L/N. The palace is huge enough as it is!” Grigor answered, turning to your mother.
“Unless you want a tour of all that!” he added on, gesturing to the bits of gold that glowed in the sunlight.
“It would be nice to see where she’ll be living,” you mother replied.
“The apartment is fine,” you finalized, looking up at his eyes.
It had been a while but you forgot or perhaps never noticed the color. They were the color of the sea. And quite beautiful.
“Besides, I already have a gift for you and it couldn’t wait for after the wedding!” he announced, with an impish grin.
“A gift?” you gasped.
“I’d like us to at least be friends, Y/n,”
“Of course, Grigor.”
After a ten-minute walk with chit chat mostly between your mother and Grigor, you arrived at the apartment. He paused slightly before the dark doors and knocked a few times, a voice replied from within.
Your heart leaped at all the red- red walls, red chairs, red furniture, a beautiful gold bathtub and a large red bed that made your stomach flip and turn warm.
“In about a week, this will be your home…but, the-ah- the gift!” he said, jumping with his eyebrows near the top of his wigged head.
An old man dressed like a servant walked from a corner. Grigor rushed there, gesturing wildly with his arms for him to walk forward. For a minute, the man was under Grigor’s shadow and his large back blocked your view.
As he turned, in his hands was a tiny Pomeranian puppy with brown fur.
Gasping alongside your mother, you let out squeals of delight on instinct. You fell in love at once. It barked and smiled when it saw you. You cooed and even your mother went over to stroke its fur. Its earthy smell came up to your nose and it licked your fingers. Grigor handed the puppy for you to hold, light and warm and smelling of earth. The puppy smiled and licked your nose in greeting and you giggled.
“Seems like she knows her mistress already!” Grigor commented, with a small laugh in his voice.
“I know they will expect us to, uh, have children someday and we might as well practice caring for a living thing. And I did not want you to be here and feel completely alone. Like you told me.”
The puppy looks up at you and tilts its head. Once you set it down, it happily runs around the apartment, leaping sometimes mid-way and then pausing to sniff every piece of furniture. It looks at you, chippering happily, the stub of a tail wagging wildly.
“Grigor, she, she…” you mumbled, close to tears. “She’s adorable! I’ve never had such a gift before!”
“It will be work, of course. And she’ll get big and eat and tear things. But Arkady knows dogs and is willing to help us.”
“Yes, of course…thank you!”
Overjoyed, you walked over to him, stood on your toes, and kiss his cheek.
It was a little out of decorum. You had hardly seen him. But you were overjoyed, and it was too kind. He blushed bright pink at the feeling of your lips and smiled.
“Y/N…you’re very welcome! Oh! I forgot! I also have…have these now…”
Out of his pocket were two small bands, bronze colored.
“Our engagement rings… until we’re official.”
Breathing in deep, you accepted the ring and slid it onto your finger. It was only a little tight. The puppy in your arms sniffed it and then tried to lightly chew on it.
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The palace tour nearly broke your jaw from how much you dropped it. You kept a leash with the small Pomeranian pup by your side, trotting happily and sniffing everything. If it were not for all the gold and countless portraits, plants, boards, and displays and details in every crack of the wall, your new pet would have distracted you.
How on earth can anyone manage to walk through this? You thought. You had not even reached the gardens yet!
Suddenly, there was a yelp and the thunder of boots.
Peter walked forward with his usual party of men, but by his side was a woman who seemed surprisingly young despite her tall height. She was extremely pale and had light blonde hair up in a bun with a few curls falling out and wore a lovely sky-blue gown.
“Ah, Grigor! Have another meeting, need you there! Now! It’s going to be fucking dull without you!” he ordered.
With a shrug, he bowed and walked away with Peter, but the young woman stayed behind. She waited until he was gone and then turned to you.
“He should have been there an hour ago, people were discussing trade forever and he should have been there to help,” She sighed.
Handing the leash to your mother, both of you dipped in a greeting curtsy.
“Pardon me, but I’m new here. I don’t know what the Emperor’s schedule is like…I don’t know what anything is like,” you confessed.
She raised an eyebrow and blinked a few times. Suddenly a shorter woman with sharp cheekbones and her hair up into a small coif ran up by the blonde woman’s side. A maid.
Looking at you both, the servant seemed to give meaning to the phrase “if looks could kill.”
She scolded, “do you realize who you’re talking to! This is her grace, the Empress! At least be polite!”
Panic flooded your chest and you dipped down to a lower, rushed curtsy.
“Your grace-I’m so sorry! Forgive me! Please!” you blubbered. “I didn’t know who you were!”
“It’s all right! Just a mistake!” she laughed.
Her hands moved forward, and she gestured you up.
“What is your name?” she asked kindly.
You introduced yourself, only looking at the end of Catherine’s blue skirt, shades lighter than your own.
“You’re Lady Y/L/N, the future Countess Dymov!”
“Yes, I am and…your grace, I am so sorry for all the trouble that happened at my house. I tried to resolve but…here I am,” you explained.
She gave a sideways glare to where Peter walked off and turned to you, “it isn’t your fault at all…my husband is… well, you understand.”
“I completely understand!” you blurted with a scoff in your throat.
Her frozen, pale stiffness melted away. She smiled genuinely.
“Empress Catherine, what is it like for women here? I haven’t heard much…”
“Well, there are…tea parties. Ball throwings. Thing like that… But…Lady Y/L/N…”
She leaned closer, speaking quietly.
“I was like you, once. Sent to be married. New to this place. I would hesitate to head there if you are new…things are done differently and the ladies here are, if I must be honest, not nice to newcomers.”
“Alright!”
You glanced at your mother, whose brow furrowed with worry at the words.
“But I shall help you. You have to meet them eventually. Just be careful. Though you aren’t me, you might have hope. They have joy in teasing me since they know I outrank them…if you need help, you may call on me.” She offered, her words rushing at the sudden idea.
“Oh your heighness, it’s an honor!” you cried.
“From one foreign bride to another!” she commented before saying goodbye and twirling off. The maid gave a look at the puppy with wistfulness, and then followed the empress.
But as you headed back, having a few moments of rest on a seat near a window.
“Our chambers are not far, I’ll be there to see if our things are ready!” she announded.
You nodded, giving a last happy pet your puppy and stared as your mother sauntered away.
Suddenly, you heard the click of heels.
“You’re his fiancée, are you?”
You turned to see a pale woman with beautiful dark curls on her head. She wore an elaborate, dusy red dress and her slight frown was not welcoming.
“I am engaged to…to Count Dymov, if that’s what you’re asking,” you answered, getting up.
“I…I thought,” she mused.
“Pardon me, I don’t even know your name…” you said.
“You can call me Georgiana.”
Oh my god…
“Lady Georgiana, I’m Lady Y/L/N,” you replied.
She looked at you, analyzing everything. Your chin dipped low and you folded your hands in front of you, frozen in place. Part of you wanted to run away.
“Miss Georgiana is there anything you want from me?” you asked.
Her lips went tight.
“I just thought that Grigor loved me…but he brings over some unknown woman from nowhere!” she spat.
You remembered what he said about their history. And her decision. Your mind blanked with Catherine’s warning, what could you even say.
“He didn’t ask me to marry him. It’s to secure an alliance with Russia.” You informed her plainly.
Getting a little bolder, you looked back at her unamused face.
“Just know, however your marriage goes, it’s me he really loves and…”
She paused. Then smiled.
“And I’ve fucked him too.”
She stuck her nose in the air as your mouth opened a little in shock.
“That’s how mad he is for me. I know every trick that will keep him returning to me. You’ll just pop out an heir for the Dymov’s and then he’ll be done with you.”
Your face turned hot and your breath felt short.
“Why…why are you telling me this?” you asked quietly.
“Because, we all know I am the one he loves and will always love. And I know how to please him in every way,” she threatened, walking closer.
“As sure as you please the Emperor,” you retorted boldly.
Georgiana stopped, her eyes widening. Her face screwed up. Though her head nodded a little in slight acknowledgement.
“Georgiana, I don’t want us to be enemies,” you pleaded.
“I don’t want you to make him miserable. You may think you know him: he seems like a nice man, but he is only two steps away from Peter. He loves parties, drinking, fun, revelry and all things wild; are you ready to have that as your husband?”
“I didn’t even choose this match. I don’t even love him- I only met him a month ago! And he offered you his hand and you couldn’t accept it! I did not have a say in the matter to be with him! Live with your choice and I’ll live with one that wasn’t even mine!” you yelled, your cheeks feeling hot.
Her nostrils flared and she walked away, flouncing like a peacock.
Sinking back onto the seat, you cursed your temper and tongue for getting the best of you.
How could you make peace of this conundrum? Even if the Empress liked you, it seemed no one else at court would now. Especially knowing the kind man who gifted you a dog spent his nights in wildness…and maybe in Georgiana’s arms.
Taglist: @queenlover05 @stardust-killer-queen
The Great Taglist/Promised: @stardust-killer-queen @itsametaphorgwil @freaking-nix @im-an-adult-ish @grigorlee @themficsilike @simonedk @deck-heart @staradorned @writeroutoftime @kiainspace @gwilymleeisbae