#grigor dymov x black!reader
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Rarest Dove VI: What Happens In The Cottage...
What happened in the cottage, you wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.
*Light smut (masturbation)
You ran into the palace, unsure if what was running down your face was the rain or your tears.
Men in the halls, breaking glasses or shouting arrows and shouting. Women giggling idiotically at the antics. You couldn’t stand it, it made your blood boil. Were you really angry at them?
No. You were angry with yourself, with Grigor. How dare he make you feel like that.
How dare he make you feel the greatest amount of pleasure you could only dream of.
How dare you want more of it, no regard for George.
You wanted nothing more than to run to your chambers and never come out. You pushed through the people in your way, knocking into them leaving briskly without apologies.
You weren’t looking in any direction when you ran into Orlo, causing you, the small man and your book of poems to fall to the floor.
‘Lady Buttoni, I am so sorry’. The small man quickly gathered himself off the floor. He scrambled over trying to pick up the book but he just ended kicking it with his feet.
By the time he picked up the book you were already standing. He noticed this as he tried to meet your eye contact but his eyes just ended you near your belly.
‘Pardon me, Lady Buttoni. Sometimes I just get caught up in my own thoughts and I don’t see wh-’ He looked up and noticed the tears coming down your eyes.
Orlo noticed your eyes often.
‘Are you alright Lady Buttoni’?
No, but you couldn’t say that. You couldn’t say that the man you love just did one of the most sinful things to your body and you were craving it. You were craving him.
You couldn’t say a damned word about it.
‘Yes, Orlo I’m fine. I was just overwhelmed with the news’.
He looked confused. He was one of the Emperor’s advisors had he missed something?
The Empress is opening a school. Isn’t that noble and exciting.
You grabbed his hands feigning a whirlwind of excitement.
How he marveled at your smile. He knew nothing of the performance behind it.
You gave the count, a shy kiss on the cheek.
‘The book you're reading, it truly is beautiful isn’t it’?
‘Yes indeed! Thank you, Orlo’!
You began to speed back to your apartments. Why was being alone so difficult in this place?
‘Modern Russia is truly on the horizon’!
Orlo couldn’t believe the rumors around court. To him Buttoni, was someone truly good hearted and kind. He couldn’t understand why she chose to remain here.
He placed a hand on his cheek. It was barely a peck but to him, he could never wash his face again.
____________________________________________________________________
As soon as you got back to your apartment, you told the servants outside the doors that you were to never be disturbed under any circumstances.
They nodded but, with a sort of questionable fear. You didn’t believe in feudalism, you didn’t believe in keeping one's place. You treated everyone with kindness and respect so, the harshness in your voice was a bit shocking and a bit scary.
Once you passed the threshold, you shut the door. It was like the air had suddenly disappeared from the room.
You felt dizzy and hot. You hunched over your armour, you needed something to hold onto. Everything was becoming a blur. The moments replayed in your head.
Lips hungry and wanting. Moving with one another. How your legs were just ready to part ways for him.
Stop.
You tried to balance yourself up straight. It was too bright in here. Too many candles.
You blew some of them out feverishly, like they were lighting the pathway to hell.
Still it wasn’t enough to keep the thoughts of him away. You couldn't stand being in your wet clothes anymore.
You peeled off your dress, you hated the feeling of it being stuck on your skin. You unbound your hair and let it freely flow around you. Tresses of curls framing your face.
You managed to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The glow from the small amount of candles that were lit managed to cast a golden hue off your deep caramel skin.
What would have he done if you stayed? What would he do if he saw you like this?
Your breast,bare and swollen from just thinking of him. You closed your eyes and began to think. His hands reach around you kneading them while he places gentle kisses down your neck.
While your hand acted as his, it was his voice that filled your ears.
Dovie...you are mine. Are you wet for me, Dovie? You were wet and warm. Can I feel you again? Will you let me?
You nodded as if he was really there. Your hand creeped down your body. Your core was wet and warm just as he told you or at least how you’d imagine he’d tell you.
Yes, dovie. So wet for me. Did you like what I did for you earlier? Tell me dovie, did you like my fingers inside of you?
Your bated breath let out a moaned yes.
Spread yourself for me like in the cottage Dovie. Let me love you Dovie.
You laid yourself on the floor. Spread your legs just as you had done in the cottage. When you looked in the mirror this time you didn’t see a damned woman, you saw a woman thinking of the man she loved.
There in a golden glow, you made love to yourself that night over and over again. You made love to yourself as if you were still in that cottage and it was Grigor’s hands on your body.
#the great imagine#grigor dymov imagine#grigor dymov x reader#grigor dymov x black!reader#poc imagine#gwilym x reader#black!reader#poc representation#gwilym lee#the great
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Hii do u have any fic recs for grigor dymov cuz its so hard to find some that man deserves more recognition :D
Hi there!
Well, first off, there's this @likesomekindofcheese chick named Carrie and hers are decent, I guess, heehheheh.
Okay, so first off, I will recommend the OC X Grigor fic called "I Really Wish I Hated You" by @ladystrallan. You can find it on Ao3 here.
Next, I recommend The Deal by @bohemianboynton it's really beautiful and captures the characters well. It's about being in an arranged marriage to our favorite sad Russian white boy, Grigor. And plus the nsfw scenes are hot if you are over 18. But the link can be found here https://bohemianboynton.tumblr.com/post/642841128582987777/the-deal
Next, I would recommend "All is Bliss", "Grigor the Lover", and "Beautiful eyes, beautiful..."
by @bluesfortheredj (the queen, myth, legend)
Next is Peonies by @queensdivas which is also lovely and an OC piece if you are intrigued :)
@valleyofearthsbeginning has a couple pieces that look really good too and a series titled "Rarest Dove" (what a title!) which is Grigor x black! Reader if you are interested and so does @thewritetofreespeech
I know I found a brief one-shot of reader and Grigor cuddling by the fire and for the life of me I can't find it. Maybe if I dig in the archive, I can, but it's very soft!
But happy reading!
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Rarest Dove: What You Were, What You Weren’t
You and Grigor have been friends for quite sometime but to each other, you’ve always been something a little more.
Did you make a mistake giving up an important future for him?
Will he ever be happy again?
*Light Smut
It was really no secret that you were an educated woman. It never bothered you that the men and women of court frowned upon it. You attributed it to your foreign nature.
Archie despised it of course but somehow his damnation was deflected when it came to you.
The truth is you loved to read. You didn’t read to change anyone or anything like Catherine wanted, you read because it allowed you to escape from the duties of court.
You would find a cozy spot away from servants, away from Peter, away from gossiping whispers.
Today you managed to escape to a place she knew very well. It was a cottage just outside the palace. It had grown worn and weathered but it was still glorious to you.
You and Grigor would spend hours in the cottage. Going on adventures or simple just hiding from Peter. It was a place that was warm to your heart.
You walked in and saw a spot near the window. You took off your robe and laid it on the ground. You sat on your robe and happily read your book of poems of love. For a moment you thought of you and Grigor when you were young.
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It was raining and for some reason it had been all summer. You, Peter, Grigor, and Georgina were playing hide and seek. It was Peter’s turn to find everyone else. You and Grigor had found each other by the fountain.
The rain had begun pouring down. There you decided to hide out the wait in the cottage. They ran trying not to slip on the lush grass.
‘I guess we are trapped’. Grigor filled the silence.
‘That just means, it’ll be a little bit harder to find us’. you replied.
‘I hope George is careful, she just got over a cold’. Grigor inquired.
There you couldn’t help it. It was something that just came out.
‘Why do you love her’? The question pierced Grigor’s ears.
‘What do you mean Natasha’? He queried.
‘She follows Peter around like a lost pup and you follow her, I don’t understand. You look at her as if she’s the sun. She’s delightfully blinding you’. The emotions were overwhelming you.
He looked at you. You were wet from getting caught in the rain. Your curls began to form. He had seen your hair once in its natural state before and he thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
‘Because you are to marry Peter. Who would I have if you married Peter’?
You looked at him. You never realized that Grigor could ever feel that way about you. You just thought if George was there, you didn’t exist.
‘I haven’t said yes’. You said with her head down. You didn’t want to say yes.
‘But, you will. If not by you then by someone else’. He closed the gap between them.
‘Do you think they will ever find us’? You asked. You could feel his breath on your face. It made your cheeks warm.
He shook his head no, and responded with the faintest of sound before he kissed you.
A kiss that haunted you since that moment. You never returned to the cottage after that, for the following day Grigor proposed to Georgina.
____________________________________________________________________________
The memory made you realize why you never came to the cottage. While your heart was warm it has been breaking.
You tried to preoccupy your mind with the book but they only made you cry more.
Your sobbing became interrupted by someone opening and slamming the door shut.
It was Grigor. ‘Oh fuck’. You thought.
He screamed and kicked at the door.
‘I HATE YOU’! You were stunned at Grigor’s display. The usual mild mannered man had erupted into a fit of anger.
‘What did the door ever do to you’? You finally spoke.
Grigor jumped back. Stunned that someone saw his display. Becoming more embarrassed that it was you.
‘I was just um-‘ He took a moment to look at her face. He could tell you were crying.
‘Dovie,what’s wrong? What are you doing in here’? He knelt down to you.
‘I’m crying because the moment I come to escape to get some peace and quiet, here you come screaming at doors’. You laughed, wiping the tears from your cheek.
It became instinctual for him. He reached up and wiped away a runaway tear that had dropped down to your lips. It was then he realized that he always watched your lips.
If they were at a party and he could hear you laughing he would look across the room for you and just look at your smile. It was a sight he could look at for the rest of his life.
‘Besides I could ask you the same question’? You felt something stir from the pit of your stomach.
‘It was just um...Orlo. Yes, he um was going on about some fucker wanting to keep his beard despite the Emperor’s law. Stupid fucker’.
He looked down and played with his fingers. You had known Grigor practically your whole life, and you knew he looked down whenever he was lying.
‘So you’re telling me that you’ve been thinking about Orlo? I mean that’s so kind of you Grigor, I too worry for him’. You baited. You knew Grigor couldn’t give a shit less about Orlo.
‘Ok fine. You’ve caught me.’ He rolled his eyes.
‘It’s George and Peter, isn’t it’? You hated to bring them up. You hated thinking about them but you hated thinking about George and Grigor more.
He looked up, trying to keep the tears in his eyes from falling.
‘The other night, I was looking for her and there she was. She was in his bed with him and the Empress.’ Tears fell despite his effort.
‘It would be different if I was there with her but she chooses to be without me’. He glanced out the window.
You wanted to punch George right in her cunt just as much as you wanted to slap Grigor.
You wanted to say, ‘Of course she doesn’t choose you, she doesn’t love you’. But you knew that would be insensitive and selfish.
You knew Grigor did love George despite everything. That’s the kind of man he was. That’s how he was different from Peter.
If Grigor was married to the Empress he would try with every ounce of his being to make her happy.
He was hurt and you wanted nothing more to make it go away. You grabbed Grigor’s face and looked at him. He laid his head on your lap. You rubbed his head trying to soothe his pain.
He couldn’t see but tears began to fall from your face. You were stuck. You knew if you were with Grigor you’d ever hurt him. You became consumed with trying to keep your sobs low.
Grigor noticed your hands had stopped. He sat up and turned around.
‘I hate that you’re hurting’. You said.
He placed his hands on either side of your face. He didn’t know if he was doing this because of George or if this something he really wanted.
Thunder crashed and soon the rain came racing down.
He kissed you. Just like years ago in that same cottage. This time the kiss was hungry. It wasn’t awkward or fumbled. You were hungry.
His tongue danced across yours. Your breath was hitched in your throat.
Your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips moved their way down to your neck. A pool gathered between your legs.
This is wrong, Natasha, you thought. The more you wanted him to keep going the thunder bolstered. Was this God telling you you were damned?
His hand began searching for the edge of your skirts.
This is really wrong Natasha
Despite what you thought, Grigor was thinking of absolutely nothing but you. He wasn’t thinking about Peter or George. He was thinking about how your touch felt like fire on his skin, a fire he never wanted to put out.
His fingers found your core. You moaned in pleasure. He pumped them slowly and deep.
He took a moment to look at you, watching you crave him, you were grabbing onto him. your moans were getting louder.
No. Natasha. No
You felt guilty but she felt good.
‘Cum for me dovie’. He whispered in your ear. You loved the way it sounded.
‘No, stop. Stop’. You hated to stop everything that was going on but you needed to. When this moment ended he would still go back to George and nothing would change.
You stood up. Tears began to pool around your eyes. You didn’t want to be a mistress or a lover. You wanted to be his and his alone but you knew that would never happen.
‘Dovie, where-where are you-‘. He was confused. Was this not something you wanted? Did he force himself?
You ran out the door into the rain. You didn’t look where you were going, you just ran.
Was it him he thought. Did he make you unhappy? Was George just unhappy with him?
He was unsure what to do about George, about Peter. The only thing he knew was that whatever just happened he’d do anything to do it again.
#the great imagine#grigor dymov imagine#grigor dymov x black!reader#black!reader#poc representation#poc imagine#gwilym lee#the great
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Rarest Dove IV: Grigor
The Empress wants her first night with her husband to be special and romantic. Is that really what she going to get?
Grigor just wants to be in the room.
Catherine bathed thinking of nothing but her husband and of Russia. Yes, they got off to a bad start but she was determined to make it better.
To avoid any unwanted guests she was going to go to him. Freshly glowing with optimism and smelling of flowers. She was ready to make her husband happy, she was ready to make Russia happy.
Dressed in nothing but a robe, she glided across the castle halls in nothing but a robe as she made her way into the Emperor's room.
She took a moment to take him in. He appeared to be asleep. She was sure that this would make him happy.
‘Husband’ she said with confidence.
‘Wife’! He arose boastfully.
She shed her robe and the Emperor’s eyes widened.
‘Huzzzah’ He said excitedly. The Emperor lifted up his sheets. ‘Stop that, move over’.
Catherine stunned. Out from under the sheets a woman arose. The woman, Madame Dymov.
She was stricken with pain. How could someone claim to be there for her happiness yet betray her this way.
‘Come, join us! It would be romping good fun’. He jested.
Here it was, he was caught and he felt joy. He cared nothing for her heart and she was beginning to care for his.
‘Oh don’t have a peasants morality about this and don’t give me the same disappointing look mother used to give me’. He declared.
‘Did you not come here to make your husband happy’? He added.
With a broken heart Catherine climbed into bed with the two. He was right, she did come there to please her husband but that was the last time she cared for his happiness.
The sun broke through the darkness and morning was beginning to show through the castle. She lied there next to her husband, next to Madame Dymov. She had come so far to be unhappy.
She tip-toed out of the bed and put her robe back on before anyone could wake.
She noticed someone on the chaise. She knew he was but couldn’t remember his name.
He noticed her and he sat up straight.
She looked around him and noticed a bottle of empty vodka.
‘I’m Grigor, we met at the wedding’. He replied. Recognizing the inquiry on her face.
‘You are a friend of Lady Buttoni’s’. She realized.
‘Yes, dovie- Natasha and I are old friends’. He smiled when he said her name.
‘And she is your wife’? She nodded her head towards the bed.
He nodded yes in return as if he knew the shame in her voice.
‘Does it not hurt you’? She inquired.
‘Marriage comes with a number of struggles’. Answered he was trying to convince himself.
‘I see, something that I’m learning very fast’. She replied.
‘He’s my friend and the Emperor and I love him’.
They both understood what was being said.
Yes, he was hurt that his wife was fucking the King of Russia right in front of him. Sure many rulers and men at court had lovers but, those were the people that were unhappy.
He never gave Georgina any reason to be unhappy. She had everything she could possibly want. All in thanks to the Emperor and for that he had to love him and she was happy and for that he had to love her.
Catherine never thought she had to love anyone, she chose to love everyone including Peter.
In her heart, before she ever came to Russia and the moment she knew she was going to marry Peter she had already made up her mind that she loved him.
What has changed is that she realized Peter doesn't love anyone. In return, people only pretend to love him so they can continue living their lives of luxury.
She left Grigor to wait for his wife to wake from her sleep with the Emperor.
As the day progressed, Catherine began to think of more ways to make her new home enjoyable.
Her main objective, to educate and give Russia more opportunities. Make them the metropolis of the modern era.
____________________________________________________________________
She learned that Peter had the intention of going hunting. Perhaps if she joined him and gave way to his obnoxiously inflated ego then just maybe she could see happiness blossom out of this dreary situation.
There she was with the Emperor in the woods, scouting for a rabbit.
It was unbelievable watching him be terrible at something he thinks he’s good at.
If he managed to see the rabbit, he’d yell ‘Rabbit!’ And then shoot, missing entirely.
Nonetheless, Catherine was to use this to her advantage. She woo’d and stroked his overwhelming yet fragile ego.
‘Can I start a school? It would teach the women and men of Russia art, science, and philosophy. I would be the one teaching so you-‘ He interrupted.
‘Yes, if that would keep you from droning on, you can talk to Battina for the funds’.
She was shocked. She squealed and hugged her husband. Perhaps he wasn’t so bad at all.
#the great imagine#grigor dymov imagine#grigor dymov x black!reader#black!reader#poc representation#poc imagine#the great#grigor dymov#gwilym lee
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Rarest Dove III: Her Husband’s Balls In Your Hands
The Empress joins the ladies of court for a numbing game of rolling balls on the lawn.
One of the ladies of court seem to come undone when Marial, the Empresses hand maiden suggests other wise.
Catherine watched the ladies gather around the tent. Champagne clutched around their dainty manicured hands.
From what the Empress could see you might have had a little too much. You were lying upside down on the chaise looking at the sun.
She walked over and stared down at you. Here you were a lady of the court drunk, a wild display of inhibitions gone and the Empress loved you even more for it.
She loved that you didn’t care for what everyone else had to say. You were unapologetically yourself, something the Empress was a little envious of.
‘Either the sun managed to cool down or it has popped out of the sky and landed in front of me’. You gazed up and tilted your sunglasses down with a smile.
The Empress giggled. ‘No, no such anomalies have happened’. She stretched out her hand.
You grabbed hold and pulled yourself up. The two you managed to bump heads and shared a laugh.
‘Empress, the game is beginning’. Lady Svenska shouted.
The two walked towards the tent with Marial trailing behind. You looked back at her and winked.
‘Oh yes, off to the races Lady Svenska, I say I’ve never seen anyone so excited to not win anything ‘ You whispered to the Empress.
‘Then again maybe she enjoys playing with balls’.
Catherine belted out a laugh and Marial smirked.
‘I myself love the idea, though they might be a little smoother than what Lady Svenska is used to’. You quipped.
Marial and Catherine tried desperately to hide their laughter. They reached the tent and gave their greetings to the other ladies. She was ushered to the front while You and Marial stood back, already bored.
She was given a ball by Georgina but as she looked at the lawn before her, she was curious what was to be done.
‘Madame Dymov, how exactly do you play’? Catherine asked.
‘Well we take the ball and you throw it’. She described and the rest of the ladies acted. Glass balls clack against one another as they impact the soft dewy grass.
‘How riveting’. You replied while taking a sip of your champagne. Marial snickering next to you.
Lady Svenska looked back at the two, her eyes burning holes at Marial.
Marial looked at her and her smile faded.
You looked at the exchange. You set your glass on the table with all the other half empty bottles. You called for a ball to be brought to you. You walked around and placed yourself in between Georgina and Lady Svenska.
‘Lady Svenska’. You called.
Lady Svenska acknowledged with her nose stuck in the air as if she smelled something foul.
‘How is your husband doing? I saw him in the halls the other day and he was limping. Something about a fester or ache in his leg’. You tossed the ball back and forth in your hands.
‘No Lady Buttoni, I was not aware’. Lady Svenska replied.
‘Well I was doing my civic duty, helping out my Russian friend and neighbor. So I got down on my knees and helped him seek out the problem. I rubbed and rubbed until he was completely satisfied and the ache was gone. Holding this ball in my hands just reminded me of your husband, well kind of’.
You rolled the ball with the other ladies. The sound of them clacking against one another was grating across your ears.
You glanced over at Lady Svenska, her face growing red, eyes growing wide.
You gave a smug smile and curtsied at Lady Svenska. You walked around the table and grabbed a bottle of champagne and returned to your place next to Marial.
The Empress spoke before Lady Svenska could unleash the rage from her lips.
‘Madame Dymov, what do we do once the balls are on the ground’? She inquired.
‘Well, we throw them and then balls are retrieved. Then we throw them again’. All the other ladies seemed to have clapped at this notion.
Catherine was at a quandary. Was this life really about feeling your days with mindless activities with no purpose?
Marial noticed and wanted to spare her Empress.
‘You look tired Empress, may I escort you back to your apartments’? She asked.
Catherine looked thankful and was about to give her answer.
Lady Svenska was boiling and you could see it on her crude face.
‘I think you’ve forgotten your place Marial and it is within our right to whip you back to your place’.
‘The Empress looked ill so I just-‘
‘If she is then she will tell you’. Lady Svenska was seeking blood.
‘Alright ladies’. Dymov spoke.
‘We all know our places and Marial didn’t mean to offend anyone, isn’t that right Marial’?
‘Yes, I’m truly sorry Empress’. Marial replied.
‘See she apologized, Lady Svenska. Marial, escort the Empress back to her apartment. I hope you feel better Empress’. Georgina gave the Empress a light hug.
The ladies of the court all bowed and said their goodbyes.
As they made their way back across the lawn, Catherine couldn’t help but to notice Marial not being as cynical as usual. The way back into the castle was silent.
Upon arriving at her apartments the Empress finally asked.
‘Do you want to tell me what happened back there’? She probed.
Marial shook her head no but the more she looked at Catherine the more she was inclined.
‘I used to be one of them, a lady of the court but the Emperor had an agreement with my father and my father broke it. As punishment he-‘
‘He sought to embarrass you and be a lesson for all of the court’. Catherine finished.
Marial agreed with her silence.
‘Well, I like you very much but I cannot protect you if you don’t stay where you are. Stop mouthing off to them. Especially that Lady Svenska is out for blood’.
Marial couldn’t help her tears. ‘I like you very much too’.
They smiled at each other. Marial was hopeful, maybe Catherine was the one to get her back to where she belongs.
#the great imagine#grigor dymov imagine#grigor dymov x reader#grigor dymov x black!reader#black!reader#poc representation#poc reader#the great#grigor dymov
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Rarest Dove II: Little Does He Know
Catherine doesn’t exactly know who she as a husband just yet but, Sir Grigor knows exactly who his wife is. Should you tell them the truth or let them figure it out themselves?
‘What do you think of her’? Grigor asked.
The great hall was filled with members of the court. Men and women drinking themselves ill. Others are wrestling in the halls. The Russian monarchy at its finest.
‘I find her delightful. She has a sort of innocence that Russia could use. The real question is, is our dear friend the Emperor going to chew her up and spit her back out like he does with everything else’. You inquired.
‘You know the way you talk is going to get you in trouble one day’. He replied gazing at the pathetic men before him.
‘Oh are you going to tell our fearless leader how I think of him, dovie’? You smiled.
That childhood name always made him laugh, mostly because you were the only one who has ever called him that.
‘No dovie. I wouldn’t but someone else would. Archie seems to be always lurking around doesn’t he’. He said with skepticism.
You leaned forward. The tops of your voluptuous breasts are peering out of your burgundy gown. Grigor throughout his life had watched you grow up and by the time you were 15, your body was something he secretly desired.
‘Well dovie, Archie is just like any other man. Instead of hiding in his nobility, he hides behind the words of God. The only thing that makes him different than you dear friend is that behind the words he’s stark naked and unashamed’. You replied, the undertone of seduction made Grigor squirm in his seat.
‘Also, why are you so keen on the Emperor, shouldn’t you be worried’. You probed.
‘What do you mean’? He looked sharply at you.
Becoming bored with the scene of drunken men, you stand to leave. You lean down.
Grigor’s throat gets caught gazing at your breasts.
Your lips close to his ear. Grigor feels his pants tightening.
‘Where is your wife, dovie? Where is Peter? I wonder if they are together’?
You give his ear a playful lick and light nibble, smiling mischievously.
Grigor knows what you say is true. Georgina had been indeed fucking Peter and more than often than not, it was right in front of Grigor.
Georgina had always convinced him it was for the love of Russia and what was bad about a woman who loved her country? If that’s what made her happy then he would be too or at least that’s what he thought.
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You knocked on the Empress's door. You were greeted sternly by her maid.
‘Well aren’t you a sight for sore cunts’? You asked.
‘Yes I bet you are from riding all the men in Russia’. The maid replied
You two smiled at one another and hugged. Both realizing that hugging an old friend made life a little sweeter.
Muriel welcomed you into the receiving room.
‘How is the other half living these days my dear’? You asked, plopping down on the love seat and propping your feet on the table.
Marial sitting next to you did the same.
‘You know, surrounded by shit every fucking second of the day but, you wouldn’t know about that wouldn’t you Lady Buttoni’. Marial laughed.
‘I don’t know is shit better when it's covered in fur and diamonds’? You quipped.
The ladies laughed until the Empress called to be dressed.
You followed Marial into the Empresses room. The sun was blasting through her window.
You looked at the beautiful young girl before you. The sun danced across her skin. She thought to herself, for a moment Russia doesn’t deserve her.
‘Lady Buttoni’. The Empress ran with excitement to the lady.
‘Empress’. You curtsied.
‘Please, call me Catherine. You are my friend’. She smiled and closed the space between the two of you with a hug.
‘As you call me, Natasha’. You smiled. ‘ So tell me, how was your first night with your new husband? Was it everything you dreamt of’?
You saw the girl deflate in an instant. You weren’t shocked, yet still seeing the light leave your new friends eyes saddened you.
‘Well, there’s nothing really to tell. He came in accompanied by his duck master and just lifted my legs and inserted himself. I admit that I had an over romantic view of such things but like a spark our love will grow’.
You and Marial glanced at one another, then back at Catherine
‘Where would you like your breakfast? In your room or outside’? Marial broke the silence.
‘With my husband, please’. Catherine responded.
You and Marial glance at each other once again.
‘He has no idea who he’s dealing with does he’? You asked with a grin.
‘Marriage is about uniting one. One body and one mind. I want to support and be there for my husband the same way he will be there for me. We will discuss ideas, maybe even a school. We will be a modern Russia’. Hope rose in her voice.
‘You should perhaps speak to Orlo, a member of the Emperors council. He is the brains amongst them. He thinks with his brain and not with his cock. He might have some insight. Will you be joining the ladies in the afternoon for games on the lawn’? You asked.
‘What sort of games’? Catherine asked.
‘It is a mind numbing game of throwing balls up the grass and you repeat until you die of boredom. The game gets either worse or better the more you drink’. You belted with laughter.
‘Empress, save yourself if you can’. Marial joined her laughter with yours.
‘I think I will. It’s important for a leader to know her people’. She replied.
You smiled and gave your friend a hug. For you knew the ladies at court would never be keen on her modern ways.
#the great imagine#grigor dymov imagine#grigor dymov x black!reader#black!reader#poc representation#poc imagine#grigor dymov x reader#the great#gwilym lee
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Rarest Dove: Natasha
The new Empress has just arrived to a strange and slowly progressive Russia. No matter how hard or trying it maybe she is not only ready to make Russia thriving metropolis but to make it her home.
On her journey she meets an exciting woman that not only shares her ideals but is enthralled by her courage and bravery.
‘What about companionship, Archie’? ‘Who am I meant to socialize with’?
‘The ladies of the court of course’.
They approached a group of ladies who seemed to be very entertained by the conversation they were having.
The Empress glanced at them all. They seemed to be wearing wigs but, they just seemed to be set back on their heads and some even a different color than what their natural hair was.
One of the ladies stepped forward and introduced themselves and gave the Empress a hug. Her wig didn’t look as bad as the others or so the Empress thought.
‘Empress. I’m Madame Dymov. The Emperor and my husband, Sir Grigor were childhood companions’.
She went on to introduce the other ladies, their smiles and eyes wide like vultures.
Except for one. The Empress’ eyes locked onto yours.
You didn’t wear a wig like the others but it were curled as if it were. You wore a sapphire gown that was embroidered at the bodice a dusted gold. It looked rather exciting compared to the other ladies.
‘-and this is Lady-‘
‘Lady Natasha Buttoni’. You stepped forward towards the Empress. ‘The Lady part is a bit subjective depending on who you ask’. you whispered.
The Empress giggled and blushed.
‘Yes, unlike the rest of the ladies here. She is unmarried’. A woman part of the court answered. Her name was Svenska from what the Empress could remember.
‘Oh yes, Empress I don’t know if there’s anything more dangerous than an unmarried woman. We are full of plots and schemes to marry other ladies' fat old husbands’.
The Empress was smiling ear to ear.
‘Oh wait. I had completely forgotten Lady Svenska that’s how you conquered your husband, that no one wants’.
You linked arms with the Empress.
‘Come Empress, we must forget these dreadful beasts with whispering cat tongues. I will escort you to your apartments’.
The Empress felt happy, for whatever reason she trusted you. Was it your smile? Was it the way you looked different than everyone else.
‘Oh Natasha you don’t intend to keep the Empress to yourself, it’s my husband who resides in the Emperor’s favor-‘ Georgina chimed.
‘For fuck sake George how often are you going to remind us’. You replied.
‘You see, Empress, the Emperor, Georgie here, along with her husband and I all were children causing chaos in these very halls’.
‘That must be splendid, having someone who knows you and growing up with you to rule a country. The Emperor is so lucky to have such a family by his side and I hope I too can become someone he loves and trusts such as you all’. The Empress responded with such a glisten in her voice.
You looked at the Empress. She was innocent. She was innocent in every aspect and it was something that you envied and loved. Growing up and seeing the ways of court, watching Peter get everything he’d ever wanted. Seeing the whims of men. It was exhausting.
You also knew that the court could chew her up and spit her out just as easy.
‘If I were to put you in my mouth you would just dissolve you’re so sweet’. Georgina replied genuinely.
‘Please don’t’. Replied the Empress.
‘Oh Georgie, I wouldn’t underestimate our spot of sunshine here. I sense a fierce woman inside. Fierce just like Russia’. You winked.
They arrived at the Empresses apartments, which were separate from her new husband.
‘Here is where we leave you. Goodnight, Empress’. Georgina bowed and made her way back down the hall’.
‘Oh fuck, now she’s going to be kissing your ass for the rest of your life’. You replied.
The Empress giggled. ‘She seems lovely. As do you Lady Buttoni. What do you ladies of court do for fun? For me back in Germany, I loved reading or learning about different sciences and ideas’.
You erupted in a fit of laughter.
‘I’m sorry Empress but, the ladies of the court don’t read. For they don’t know how. Any conversations only lead to trivial anecdotes or mindless droning’.
‘What about you Lady Buttoni? You seem intelligent, honestly different from the rest of them’. The Empress inquired.
‘My father is the right hand to the Holy Roman Emperor and a friend of Peter’s father. My mother died when I was just a girl, so my father raised me to be like him. When Europe became more modern my father loved the idea of me growing up in a more modern era. He loved Russia and asked the Empress if I could be ward to her’.
‘You are a testimony, Lady Buttoni, that even an outsider can have love in their hearts for a new place. I’m more confident that Russia will love me as much as I love her’. She proclaimed in delight.
You looked around, in fear of what you might say.
‘Empress may I be honest’?
‘Of course, I value your opinion’.
‘I know what this means to you your majesty but, Peter is what you call an acquired taste. I don’t want you to be disappointed but just more prepared. He’s like a child, he can like you in one moment and embarrass you the next. Since he was a boy he’s been told that people have to love him. Be careful’.
‘I appreciate your concern but, I know Peter values our union just as much as I. There’s only a cultural discord but I shall overcome that’.
You grinned at her not wanting to argue with the new Empress. You wanted her to form her own opinions of the beloved court of modern Russia and of Peter.
You gave her a hug and wished her a successful night.
‘Will I see you again, Lady Buttoni’? The Empress inquired.
‘That’s the beauty of court my love, you will see me everyday for the rest of days’. You smiled and glided down the hall.
If you were a part of Modern Russia, the Empress couldn’t wait to be a part of it.
#the great imagine#grigor dymov imagine#grigor dymov x black!reader#black!reader#poc representation#poc reader#grigor dymov#gwilym lee#the great
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Promised Part Four (The Great Arranged Marriage AU mini-series)
Pairing: Grigor Dymov x fem! Reader
Word Count: 7K
Warnings: swearing, food, dogs, marriage, and mentions of sex and some steamier parts
Summary: When Emperor Peter visited your family, his behavior threatened the peaceful alliance between them and Russia. Now in order to fix it, you are betrothed to marry his best friend, the handsome and heartbroken Grigor.
Part One --- Part Two -- Part Three
The morning after the wedding there was a sealed letter placed on your mother’s table. She nearly dropped it in nervousness.
Something had happened. Something had already happened. The alliance may even be in danger and so was she. Everything was too new now. The blue bed that you slept on in the other room was now empty. Even little Sonya’s trotting and barking was gone as well. She had to face the morning alone. And you, her daughter, her dear child, was now a married woman.
She ripped it open to read the contents with wide eyes.
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Emperor Peter was about to take his morning as usual- sleeping in late. As was typical for a hangover. Peter laid out on his belly like a starfish, still in his clothes. Georgiana smirked as she entered the chambers. She heard him groaning even in his dreams. Already in her dark robes and nothing else on, she knew he would be groaning for different reasons in perhaps an hour. She knew that after a night of celebration Peter would call on her one way or another to cure the headache he had with her kisses. She might as well be ready. There were worse ways to start the day.
Her eyes trailed down to a sealed letter on the table on the other end.
It was Grigor’s seal.
Before she could stop herself, Georgiana grabbed a small letter opener and cut it open. She read its contents.
It was short. But enough. She put it down, sitting on the chair and taking in a deep breath. Her lovely ivory face turning red. Tears blurring her eyes as she breathed in the message it contained. As she sat down, she let the waves of grief flow out of her, glad that the emperor was too deep asleep to see it.
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Your brother and his wife were late risers. So, they were confused by the excited knocking on the doors of their salon while the sky was still pink.
The lodgings given to them were surprisingly beautiful. Large, plush beds that were the color of cream, vases full of roses, and purple canopies over their heads as they slept. And all expenses covered. Your brother gently padded his wife’s shoulder as she groaned at the sound.
“I’ll get it…”
“Thank god for this bed…” she nestled into the pillow to fall back asleep.
Your brother yawned and crawled out. He smiled and kissed his wife and she smiled before she returned to dreaming. His eyes were crusted with sleep as the door cracked open but shot awake at the sight of your father.
“Wha…what is it?” he asked.
“I have a letter…it’s from Grigor, Y/N’s husband.”
He tilted his head in astonishment.
“Already? Why? What happened?”
“I don’t know yet…I thought we both should find out…” he commented nervously. “’Sides, my eyes are bad. Can’t read a thing on it.”
Your father handed it to him, and your brother read it out loud.
“To the Y/L/N Family,
Last night under the sight of God, Y/F/N and I consummated our marriage.
The alliance is now completely secure and may nothing hinder it with our union. You may rest assured everything is now safe. Madame Y/L/N and the Emperor know of this as well.
Your Son-in-law, as of yesterday,
Grigor Dymov.”
Your father and brother let out a deep breath. Yet there was a knowing look between them. Your brother looked again at the letter.
“And…she’s his! I can hardly believe it…I barely even know the man myself!” your brother said.
“Well, it’s secure…it’s completely secure…our alliance with Russia is safe.”
As your brother returned to bed, worried thoughts entered his head. Grigor had a bit of vodka and was putting you on his lap and kissing you a lot. You looked so so timid with him. Not to mention Peter. If this man was close friends with Peter then that said enough. Your voice was trembling when you said your vows. You would only speak softly. And you only knew Grigor for so long. The moments before you were led to Grigor’s chambers you looked like a lamb led to the slaughter. And he could do nothing about it.
This alliance came at the price of your torture.
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As you put the envelope into the pocked of you gown, you heard a familiar yap.
Sonya trotted over. With her ears down, she wagged her tail and reached up for you on the skirt of your robe as far up as she could.
“Hello love…do you like the place?” you asked.
She placed her paws on your skirt as you gentle petted her head.
“Shhhh, be quiet. Please don’t wake pa…him…” you whispered.
Was Grigor now her papa? It felt odd to call him that yet.
Who knew when he would awaken, so you wandered through your new apartment. It was large- three rooms, all with large red walls. You especially liked the outer receiving room with a large, dark fireplace and a nice little brown table with two chairs. There was a tea set properly placed there. Sunlight was pouring in and you heard the chirps of a few robins. The redness looked less frightening. The bathtub gleamed when there was sunlight against it.
Quietly you placed Sonya into your arms and scratched her fur as you admired a few portraits on the wall of the guest room. Eventually she wiggled hard and freed herself onto the floor, shaking in a flurry and then prancing to sniff the place more.
You scurried back into the bedroom. It felt bad to leave Grigor alone once he awoke the morning after your wedding. Especially when you recalled what he said last night.
I used to wake up in the mornings and hate it…because I would be alone…
You poured yourself a cup of the coffee, relieved that it was still steaming hot. This Liza or Beth or whoever timed her gift right. You sipped on it and let Sonya wander by your feet. Whenever she trotted over to the bed, you would shoo her away. You would scold her for yapping, placing a gentle hand over her mouth and saying firmly “no bark…no bark…”
After a few minutes passed, his eyes opened. He groaned as he woke up. His hand began searching your side of the bed.
Breathing in quickly, you walked forward on cue.
“Oh…I…I’m sorry…I…” you mumbled.
“Nothing, nothing…did you sleep in? You’re not tired, are you?” he asked groggily.
“I…I woke up a little bit ago…” you answered. “I managed to fall back asleep. I think it’s late morning.”
“That’s good.” He said.
Placing yourself on the edge of the bed, you weren’t sure if you wanted to kiss his forehead or take his hand. You weren’t sure what quite to do at this stage.
“We have a…a gift for us…someone sent us a tray…”
He got up. You were still unused to the sight of his body now in only a simple shift. You looked at the floor. You saw his breeches were still on the floor abandoned. Noticing a black robe over one of the chairs, you went over and got it.
“Is…is this yours?”
“Yes, it is.”
Fetching it, you returned to his side of the bed. Standing on your toes to reach his tall height, you placed it over his shoulders and he slipped his arms through.
“Th-thank you, you’re very kind, Y/N. What are the pastries like?” he asked.
“I…I haven’t tried any of them yet…” you confessed.
“How come?”
“I…I wanted to wait for you…so we could eat them together…” you admitted.
He grinned as he joined you to try the tray. Pulling up the card, he let out a huff of laughter.
“Huh, already she calls us our aunt.”
“Is she your aunt?”
“No, Peters.”
“Oh.”
He smiled. You smiled back. As he sat down and began to eat a strawberry flavored one you noticed a slightly wicked gleam. You looked back and picked a chocolate pastry, biting into it with embarrassment.
You wondered if the intimate moment you had last night would be brought up. Or rather, how to bring it up. What did lovers, much less married couples say after these things? The thing that was unsaid between the two of you now.
“Oh your cock is pretty large.”
“Thanks for cleaning up the mess between my legs!”
“I thought I would kick your head off by accident last night-sorry! I’ll be on top next time!”
There were people who thought men weren’t men, women weren’t women, and children would stay children until they were bedded. You looked at your bare feet poking out from below. It was still your feet. Your hands were still your hands. And even the face in the mirror on the wall across from you was still your face. You were supposed to be a woman now. But you didn’t feel any different than yesterday.
“Th…thank you, Y/N. I appreciate you waiting for me for the food,” he said.
You nodded. “Of…of course…and…about last night…I…”
The words froze in your throat. You were always raised as more of a proper lady. You were able to control any urges you had for other men. Besides, you didn’t want to risk getting pregnant and the difficulties that would bring. Or die in an attempted abortion. Or get a disease. The world of sex had things you heard about. Whispers or a page or two from books that you would secretly read when your parents backs were turned. But actually, experiencing them was something new. Exciting. Frightening. Unknown.
“I…it was…it was nice…” you said. “You were very nice to me…you are very nice to me…and I…I don’t know anything…”
He smiled genuinely and said “I’m…I’m glad. I’m glad it was nice for you…damn, these are good.” He said, chewing on his bite.
You finished your pastry. Little Sonya raced around the room and perking her head at any new sound she heard of footsteps. It was silent between the two of you as Grigor finished his breakfast. His shift was still open to show a bit of the hairs on his chest and his eyes had the slightly dark quality of an hour too much of sleep than one was used to.
“I was so scared about yesterday, I didn’t sleep much the night before,” you commented.
“Y/N…yesterday was very long. Take it easy today, please. You don’t have to do anything today. You can stay in bed all day even, if you’d like….”
“That…that would be nice. My mother is still here, can she come over and visit?” you asked.
“Yes! And…Can I invite your family over…just on a small hunt in the woods. The Emperor won’t be there because that’s his required hours with Catherine…ah, attempting for an heir.
“Oh.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of him. So we can all be together. We’re all a family now.”
“Yes, that…that sounds nice.”
It was a quiet mid-morning after breakfast was cleared. You were grateful for screens to dress behind and as soon as you were ready, there was a serf saying Grigor was asked for.
“Velementov needs your insight on a statue raised for Peter the Great, at once.”
It was a little lonely after he left. You read the fairy tales by the fire, the palace was large enough and you lacked the energy from yesterday to explore it anymore. And interacting with the other ladies of court scared you from what Catherine warned. You decided you would deal with court on a day you were not tired and aching from preparing a long-awaited wedding. Enjoying the silence and nothingness than fitting for your dress or seeing millions of well-wishers or trying not to let your crown fall off your head.
Looking further at your lodgings, the walls and furniture had matching, co-coordinating fabrics. There was a small throw pillow in a chair right by your bed that was the same color and pattern of the walls. You stroked the little pillow and then the walls, feeling the smoothness and bumps of the decorative flowers.
You rang up for hot water and some soaps. The bath was too intriguing to not try. Besides you felt grimy.
It was large. It took several steaming buckets before it was filled and you were left alone to step into it. The soaps smelled like honey and vanilla. There was steam building up in the room from the warmth of the bath. You noticed a mirror on a vanity was fogging up, as well as an oval shaped area mark on the wall catching some condensation. It was odd. Lightly colored. But there were faint dark marks as if a portrait had been on there for a while.
Shrugging off the observation, you peeked over to the side to see a few jars. Opening the porcelain lids, you saw bath salts and poured them in on an indulgent whim to add more flowery scents. Exhaling deep, your aching feet and limbs thanked you.
The perks of being friends with the Emperor of Russia…
You took the sponge placed next to the salts, giggling as you rubbed the soap on it. The sponge seemed about the size of your head. It covered your arms and legs. You were scrubbing on your body, standing up on in the tub to do so, when Grigor entered suddenly.
With a slight scream, you dipped down into the water quickly.
Splash!
You backed into the corner, your arms covering your breasts and your knees together, pulling away. Retreating into a near corner of the bath, you turned your head towards him. He even looked a little pink himself and could not resist a smug smile. He was not in his wig but was in the dark green court dress perhaps for whatever business he had to take care of.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to join you?” he asked, half-meaning it.
Though he turned away after the quip and covered his eyes with his hand dutifully.
“N-no thank you! I…I’m sorry…I’m just not used…please don’t gape at me!” you begged.
“Y/N! It’s fine.”
He peeked over and you made sure to duck low enough in the tub. Sure enough, it was safe. The edge of the tub, the soapy water and your limbs could cover anything too private. Only your head, with your wet hair clinging to you was visible.
You placed your hands on your face in shame.
“It’s so silly- we’ve already made love, Grigor…but it’s you…and it’s my body I…and I still feel….” You mumbled out timidly.
“Y/N…it’s alright. I’m not used to having a wife bathing in my room! I should have knocked….”
A jealous image jolted in your brain. Maybe Georgiana bathed in this very place. Maybe that was why he said “wife” and not “woman.” Maybe he was out with her. But…he couldn’t. He just couldn’t…would he? You didn’t love him. You liked him. And he was your husband and you were his wife. That was enough.
He keeled to the floor, seeing you at eye level with the bathtub covering what needed to be hidden. Though when you turned your head around. Only your head, with wet hair clinging to your face, and your neck and shoulders were visible.
“I…I’ve visited your mother. She will be staying here for a week and so will the rest of your family. You aren’t a prisoner in here, Y/N. You can have her up or visit her apartments. Even today if you aren’t too tired…we can host a tea or dinner for her if I’m not busy. Whatever you would like to do today.”
A smile crept up on you that matched his. You noticed his ears sticking out childishly like a mouse’s ears.
“That does sound nice…I’d like it if she came over this afternoon,” you replied. “And…your-er-our apartments are very pretty. Comfortable. I don’t feel like I’m in prison at all…”
He placed his hand in the warm water and tested it, his fingers stroking it. You noticed how long and graceful his hands looked, swirling the soap as if it was some magic concoction.
“Did you know I have a couple manors…and more than one vineyard?” he asked.
You shook your head.
“Gifts from Peter to me. If I could perhaps talk to him for a bit…. we would go there. Have a real honeymoon. There’s one near my vineyard in the country in the west. The sunsets are stunning. And the wine’s not bad either. We could watch the sun over a bottle and get away from court for a little while…wouldn’t that be nice?” he offered.
You nodded, “yes, I would love to go there with you.”
“Wonderful. I’ll leave you be.”
He stepped and turned to the next room so you could finish bathing and dress in privacy. Part of you prayed maybe the emperor would listen to sense. If possible. Even one day away in the country drinking wine would be nice. And you could have worse company than Grigor.
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That afternoon, right as you were dressed for company in a simple burgundy dress and invited your mother to have afternoon tea with her in your new home. She was walked in. Running from Grigor’s side, you embraced her as if you had not seen her in a year. In front of the fire there was a third chair and tea and a few sandwiches. Sonya even barked on her arrival and wagged her tail.
It was just like it was two days ago. Almost.
Until a serf brought in Orlo in a bit of a hurry, his wig disheveled, a slab of some sauce possibly thrown across his jacket. His glasses even looked a little dirty and his hair disheveled.
“The emperor requests your presence immediately,” he parroted, looking at Grigor.
He sighed lightly, but bowed to your mother, gave you a kiss on your hand, patted Sonya’s head, and left.
“Y/N…you seem…you seem to like him,” she said.
“If I was going to be sold for everyone’s sake, at least it’s to a decent man,” you commented. “So many others aren’t as lucky.”
She took a sip of her tea. Sonya kept trying to stick her snout into the sandwiches and you shooed her away. Your mother laughed a little at the puppy’s antics. She even hopped up and tried to eye her for a bit of biscuit.
“Y/N, I received word this morning concerning the…you know…” she began.
Your grip on your teacup went cold.
“That the alliance is secured.” You said firmly. “Totally.”
Your stomach squirmed.
“Yes.”
“I did what I had to for all of us. I knew if I didn’t sleep with him soon, then everyone I love would be in danger. Grigor told me. Besides, it was my duty as his wife…it is my duty,” you said.
She leaned over closer, glancing to make sure no one was listening. She then placed two hands on your shoulders.
“Did he…did he force himself on you, as you feared? We’re alone, you can be honest.”
“No, he waited until I said yes.”
Your mother released a breath.
“Thank heavens!”
Setting down your cup, the emotions came pouring out.
“But Mama…that’s just one night! And were bound until death! There’s going to be so many more! It’s all so new and I just…right before it happens, I get so nervous!”
Looking down, you glanced at your stayed-up stomach beneath your dress. It looked normal. But who knows? You could be pregnant this very minute. Were you even ready to be a mother yourself?
“What can you…tell me about it?” she asked.
“I was…I was relaxed after it was over and I…I don’t even know what to think. I get nervous whenever he looks at me. I was bathing when he walked in and it scared me that he could gaze all over me. It just…it unnerves me!” you confessed. “And I already did it! How can that be?”
“Well, now you’re married, we can be more candid about it. I can finally talk about it. I understand being nervous. The first few times your father and I made love…”
“Mama, please!”
“It’s thrilling and scary. You’re just new. Y/N, I’ll have to go back home, so we better make use of this time but… but…you have no reason to be ashamed of it. Or too emboldened yet. It can be a beautiful act. And it can also be an awkward one…. just tell me what it is that tortures you and what you like and let’s see if I can help…”
You smiled and spoke with deep honesty to her. She advised you. Discussing everything. Far more details than the bits and pieces after your betrothal was announced. Although your ears burned with details of your parents you never wanted to think about, you found yourself learning more and more about your body and a bit of his and what happens and what to do.
The discussion was had even long after the sandwiches were finished in crumbs for Sonya to sneak licks of.
“I will be here for a little bit, we can discuss plenty more…you can also write, my dear.”
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It was getting dark. Grigor was still not back yet since tea. You were thankful for the long talk with your mother, but she had been long gone and now you were awaiting his return.
The old man serf walked into the room with a tray of food.
“Monsieur Dymov sends his apologies. The emperor is keeping him long. He asked me to send you this,” he croaked kindly.
Thanking him, you accepted the tray. Dining alone as the night sky sparkled out of your window and the red walls grew from scarlet to garnet with the light’s dimming.
The clock from the hallway ticked with the hour as you wiped your mouth and ate the last bite of potato. Opening a cabinet in your bedroom, you found a familiar nightgown was pressed in there and changed into it.
You were knitting away on your bed as the fire crackled. Sonya sat up with you a while and tried to chew on the yarn and then contented herself with sitting at the edge of the bed sleepily. That scarf you were working on still wasn’t complete. You started the project not long before the Emperor called on your home and now…well, things were different now. It was halfway through though. It would take hours of work, but it was still there. Your fingers were still a little sore from being at the task for a while. It still helped you with your nerves of what your husband would be expecting of you.
The blankets over you were a dark green this time, changed so the dark ones could be cleaned. Sonya curled into a ball like a little brown decoration on the bed.
You reached for the brush on top of the chest next to you, placed away the scarf, and began to work on brushing your own hair when you heard footsteps and a few grunts. And it was none of the servants.
Part of you fretted it would be Peter. If you were alone with him who knew what would happen. But you saw Grigor walk inside. He had a white shirt that was open and darker pants with boots.
“I’m here! It too forever-we played tennis for hours! You can’t believe how many noses we could hit on the portraits!” he reported cheerily.
Taking off his boots. Sonya got up and greeted him. He bent down and began stroking her fur. It seemed comical to see such a large man with a squeaking puppy the size of his neck.
“Tennis? No meetings of state?” you asked.
“Not when he wants to complain! He was completely hungover, too. It was almost pitiful.” He added with a spark in his eye. Grinning, you recalled why he was hungover.
“Any vomiting with the tennis?”
“Had a bucket on the corner- poor fellow!”
You laughed a little bit at the image.
Though to your mixed delight and horror, he took off his shirt, pants, and breeches, climbing naked into bed. As beautiful and toned he was, you never slept next to any naked person. Much less a man. Keeping your eyes on only his face, you froze. Then you ducked to look at your hands. On one hand, this was your husband. Your anxieties wondered if any…part of him would awkwardly brush against you in the midst of sleep.
The bed shifted as he lifted the blanket and sat next to you.
“Yes, none at all, Y/N! Why I…oh…oh I….I’m sorry,” he apologized noticing your embarrassed face.
“It’s…it’s fine. I remembered you liked sleeping naked I’lll….I’ll just try to get used to it…”
“Let me…let me put on my breeches.”
He rushed out to shimmy it back on and then hopped back. Exhaling deep, you continued brushing a stubborn tangle in your hair. It till hadn’t recovered from the thousands of pins of yesterday. He paused, looking at you. You had sat up, holding your comb now with both hands and clutching it on your lap.
As you returned to brushing, he laid down on the pillow, watching you gently.
“What is it?”
He took a strand in his hand gently, playing with a wisp of your hair.
“Your hair is lovely. That’s a sight I could get used to- to see you just sit there and brush it.”
You bit your lip.
“Th-thank you, Grigor.”
As soon as you did, you pulled a strand away, revealing part of your neck. He went over to lean closer. You couldn’t help but stare at how attractive the hair on his chest made him. But your palms got sweaty and your heart was racing.
“Do…do you want to…I…” you felt yourself mumbling over as the sensation took over.
“Want to what?” he asked. “What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked.
“It’s just….I’m…nothing’s wrong!” you insisted.
You looked up at him with a little sigh.
“You must think I’m a nun, Grigor. I just…I know it’s my duty to…to please you…” you confessed, looking down at your shift, fingers clutched as if ready to pull it up and have it over with.
Besides, wasn’t it true that men were always rabbits in heat? And their wives were bound to lie down and let them at it?
“I…it doesn’t matter what I want, what do you want?” he said.
“You mean…I don’t have to make love to you tonight if I don’t want to?” you questioned, blinking.
“It’s simple as that…” he said with a shrug.
He took both of your hands, gently rubbing his thumb over yours.
“Remember yesterday? I promised you that you have my protection. You’ll always be safe with me, Y/N. Not just with last night. Nothing has to happen if you don’t want it to.”
“Well, I…I’m really tired after yesterday and I…I just want to sleep…”
“May I at least kiss you goodnight?”
“Yes…”
You placed your hands on his face to guide yours and he kissed you sweetly. You could taste his dinner, but you didn’t mind. Though once you let go, he trailed a kiss down to your neck and you felt yourself let out a sound at it. It tickled a little and your stomach was churning again at the feeling of his lips there.
“Grigor…”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you…thank you for the tray…I was hungry.”
“Thank you for being patient. He is my ruler, but you are my wife. We can have dinner tomorrow.”
“Alright, I command it,” you joked.
He leaned forward and kissed you chastely with a smile, cupping your face. You smiled into it and when you pulled away, you found you had held your breath during it.
“Alright, Y/N…good night.”
Blowing out the candles, your room was submerged in darkness.
But you fell asleep lying across from each other. Close enough to feel each other’s breath. And without being very aware of it, your hand wandered to his and held it right as you drifted away. But it was nice to feel him next to you and feel him nuzzle at you. Soon your exhaustion won, and you were asleep.
At one point when you woke up in the middle of the night and saw the outline of his bare chest rising and falling slowly. You nestled closer and placed your head on it, not minding the feeling of his body. His arm reached around for you. Accepting it, you fell back asleep.
The next afternoon was cool and the trees were orange and autumnal. You recognized the rest of your family in a party outside the palace. Everyone had their warmest coats and cornered hats. A couple of wigged serfs carried small brown bags right by their heels.
Grigor and you walked out to the start of the woods in outdoor coats and hats topped on your heads. You rushed over to embrace them at once. They called “Y/N! Hello,” and gave multiple hugs of greeting as Grigor stood aside to let you have a moment.
Though you noticed your brother frowned when he saw your husband. Giving him only a bob of his head.
As your family headed off where the palace ended and the woods began, you felt Grigor brush by you. You shook off a few leaves that fell on your dark blue skirt.
“Is it…is it safe?” you ask.
“I know every pathway. There are gardens and little buildings here and there. I’ve played here since I was a child-It’s more than safe.”
“I must confess I haven’t explored much on my own. The gardens are still confusing to me. I can’t imagine what the forest will be like…”
An idea struck you and you paused. In the distance you heard a few doves cooing in a tree in front of you.
“Do you think…” you began.
“Think what?”
“Maybe in the mornings, or the late afternoon, when Peter hasn’t called you, we can see more of the gardens and the palace. Even the woods. I’ll bring Sonya on a leash. We can all walk. Together,” you suggested.
He gave you a crinkled smile. Leaning forward so that his grey wig shifted to the side from his head.
“That…that’s a grand idea Y/N,” he replied. “So help me, you aren’t getting lost.”
Picking up your pace, you both caught up with the party. There were bits of conversation to catch up that felt like older times. And you were grateful for the lack of a certain brash emperor to stir feathers. The only feathers that would be stirring were that of the birds spotted in trees. Easy targets. The men reached for the guns near their thighs and began shooting.
Your father was surprisingly excited about it. He managed to get a small robin, and everyone clapped. Grigor was impressive but was better at brighter colored birds than something duller. The servants ran after the birds and stuffed them into the bags.
After some time of fetching, walking beneath crunching leaves, and some relaxed, light conversation concerning your friends back home, there was a yelp from your brother.
“Look there! A big one!” he cried.
You turned your head to look for this mighty bird. It was a crow, cawing in mockery above. Your father reaching up to aim.
“Arh! My blasted eyes! I can hardly see it!” he cursed, moving slowly as the bird hopped between trees.
You followed with your mother and sister-in-law, chin up to where the large back bird was headed. And then you heard a gruff sound behind you.
Urf!
Two figures were missing from the others chasing after the bird. Turning around, you could make out some angry whispers. Walking closer, you looked and saw where. Your brother had somehow grabbed Grigor by the collar and pinned him against a tree with his pistol. His nostrils were flaring and his eyes almost red with rage as he spat onto his face.
“I know you did, you bastard! Secured alliance my arse-you deserve to have your head chopped off!”
“What do you mean?” Grigor insisted, eyes large and his face white.
“You deranged pervert! My sister is one of the best women I know, and you torture her like that!”
“I’ve done nothing!”
“You’re a scoundrel among men! And I don’t know what is stopping me from the pleasure of blowing your brains out!” your brother hissed.
Heart leaping, you did not doubt he would pull the trigger on him.
“I know how you Russians are- And everyone knows how happy Catherine is with her husband, how will you be any better with Y/N! Much less, what you did to her!”
You cry out your brother’s name and he turned to see you. Picking up your skirts, you run in between them, placing yourself in front of Grigor. Your arms reach out to shield him. You feel his breath huffing quickly in nervousness and so does yours.
“Stop it! What did you think happened?”
“Y/N, we got a letter bragging about how he forced himself on you and expects us to congratulate him! I won’t stand for any man who treats you-“
“He did not rape me the other night, I consented!” you interrupted.
A few hairs flew free from your hat. You felt your hands ball into fists. Again your own privacy concerning your body was being tossed around and displayed publicly.
“What?”
“I consented to consummate the marriage. Grigor never forced himself on me. And he promised he would. I know you’re protecting me, but I won’t you let hurt him- stop being ridiculous!”
Glancing back, Grigor’s eyes were the size of robin’s eggs. His jaw was slack and he was frozen in place, but his posture softened from your protection.
“Sir…may I add, is this the way you thank your patron?” he asked.
Your brother blinked. His hand holding the gun relaxed in mid-air.
“P-patron?” he asked.
“Do you know who covered the fees for your travels? The bill for the hotel?”
“It…it was a gift. Anonymous. I thought it was from our tenets or from the Russian court so we could…” your brother responded.
“It was from the Russian court. Because I fucking sent it. I begged Peter to let you come to the wedding and be with Y/N the day we departed for Russia. I had to nag him every day for weeks and weeks. Can you imagine nagging your damn sovereign?! But he finally agreed. I paid every penny just to have you be taken here and have a roof over your head the whole time! It’s because of me you aren’t away at your home wondering if you’d even see her again!” he said in frustration.
It was your turn to drop your jaw and turn your head around.
“You…you did that? But…why anonymous!” he asked
“It was in case Peter fucking disagreed! And he would have if I didn’t spend out of my own damn pocket! If it were that, I would have sent Y/N to the hotel to see all of you.” Grigor explained.
Your brother was aghast, and you blinked in surprise.
“Why? Why all this…for me? For us?” you blurted.
“I didn’t want bad blood with my in-laws! And Y/N your face- the look you had when our carriage was pulling away after the contract was signed…it haunted me. How scared, and miserable you seemed…I had to do something about it. I was practically stealing you away from everyone you’ve loved and known…I thought it would at least make you happy. It would make everyone happy. So, I did it.”
He nodded, looking down at you with his anger flushed out and his features softening.
Ears burning, you nearly clutched his hand as you processed what he did. Your brother sheathed his pistol.
“Forgive me…. she’s my sister and I…I was scared that I failed to protect her…” he apologized.
You soon heard footsteps and the others following suit. You felt Grigor’s gloved hand clutching yours as you both walked up, your brother in front of them.
“Why, what is it?” your sister in law asked, arms akimbo as she reached him. “We’ve been looking for you for a while!”
“I…uh, saw a rabbit and we raced to catch it, honey…” your brother answered with a quiver in his lip.
She rolled her eyes but got his arm anyway.
“Well, at least you’re safe. I thought we heard a bit of fighting,” she added, kissing his forehead.
Looking up, you felt Grigor walk forward, suggesting.
“Sir… join me after dinner, I have a bottle from Kiev. Let’s crack it open and enjoy a little mano e mano chat…we only need to know each other better. Is that good?”
“Yes that…that’s good,” your brother nodded, allowing his wife to loop her arm around his and lead him away.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There must have been a little magic stored in that bottle. You sensed that after dinner you should leave them alone for them to drink and talk it out, especially since guns would not be involved. Though you could not help but place your ear outside the door that led to your apartment.
Though as you sat outside the hall, listening through as Sonya panted in your arms, you heard a clearing of a throat. Turning, you saw Mariol holding a book.
“The Empress asked wanted me to know, have you ever read Rousseau?” she asked sharply.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Then she wanted to give you this as a late wedding present. And for me to say that you’re free to visit her to talk about it. Count yourself lucky she likes you,” she added honestly.
Biting your lip, you thanked Mariol and accepted the thin book bound in red. Sonya sniffed at it in your other arm.
As much as you wanted to glance through the pages, you heard ridiculous laughs from your brother. Chuckling as Grigor chatted about a whistle that could summon an army of ducks from the back yard. But it was your brother’s silly, relaxed, happy laughter. The one of the happy boy you grew up with and not the man who almost killed your husband hours ago.
Poking in your head at the crack of the door shyly, you saw that they were enjoying a roasting fire next to them. Heads turned to acknowledge you. You shied away at first, but Grigor gestured you over.
“Ah! My darling Y/N…. come join us, please!”
“Isn’t this a man conversation?” you asked teasingly.
“I can make an exception!” he said, sipping his vodka.
Grinning you obliged, setting down the dog to be at your side and putting the book away. You allowed your husband to lean against you and clutch your hand. The sensation made you nearly feel a little dizzy. Even greeting him with a kiss on the cheek as a thanks for your cup of Kiev vodka. And your brother’s eyes didn’t redden this time. In fact, he gave you a toothy grin like the kind you shared when you ate sweets as children. When he fell asleep that night, you found yourself happy to see him smiling but secretly a touch disappointed. And you knew why.
That next night you waited for him to return from Peter’s request to dine and play who knows what games. Your heart was beating fast as you gave your hair a quick brush through, just as he liked it. Admiring the green laid on the walls in contrast to the red, you heard him mutter something to his servant. But you kept thinking of him- how he kept you safe on that night, how he shared the vodka with you, and the personal sacrifices he made to bring your family to you for the wedding. That and the image of his bare chest rising and falling in the middle of the night made you suddenly burn and ache for him when he left. And you wanted to do something about it.
There was the orange glow of the candles and the rest was taken care of by the night sky.
“Y/N? Y/N, where are…”
You wore your green robe and sat down on the bed at the end. Grigor walked into the room and then froze. Beneath your robe there was nothing else and he noticed.
“Hello, I’m here…”
“Hello…” he greeted. His pupils growing wide.
“I…I want to be yours tonight…if you’ll have me…And I’m just as nervous, but I want you too much for that…”
You walked up in front of him and touched his face gently.
“You…you want me? Do you want me?” he asked, almost in confusion.
“I want you. Now take me, husband,” you said.
He was on you in a heartbeat, his hands undid the knot holding your robe together. And though a jolt of nerves shot through you, you buried yourself in kissing him back too much to focus on it.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There was a peaceful week following. Dinners, teas, and visits. Drinks between you, your brother, and Grigor as the alcohol burned your throat and the fire toasted your sides. Numerous visits and talks. And nights where you slowly got more comfortable with yourself and Grigor and connecting through your bodies and not being ashamed of it.
In a blink of an eye, it was a week done. And your mother’s apartment was filled with her luggage.
The other three met you and Grigor in front of the palace as their carriage together trotted up. You embraced your father and mother constantly. You felt yourself cry when at the sound of the hoofbeats. Your father kissed your forehead, “my darling girl, I’ll miss you so much.”
Your mother gave you an extra hug and said “your father and I will always love you, no matter what.”
Your sister-in-law made promises to write and you swore to include details of whatever mischief little Sonya got into with an attempted sketch.
While Grigor shook the hands of each of them he paused before your brother. Hesitantly.
“I didn’t know you well…I hope you will forgive me,” your brother confessed. “I shouldn’t have acted the way I did…I love my sister and I was worried for her safety, her happiness.”
“I promise you- your sister will want for nothing under my care.”
“Even if the Emperor…?”
Both of you froze. You seemed to have overlooked it. But your brother’s gaze was serious.
“He’s my friend, she’ll be safe even with him,” he answered. Although a sad glimmer in his eye told you that there was a memory in his head that was saying otherwise.
Now you were truly alone, you thought. And with a ruler who was both a great help but could also be a great threat to you. You recalled the way he oogled you and suggested you come to his bedchamber that first night as a compliment to the royal guest and you felt yourself shrink once the carriage door closed.
Before you knew it, you were trembling, and you started to sob. Grigor took your shoulder and shushed you. He opened his mouth but stopped himself. What was there to even say?
There that coachmen and those horses were, taking your family further and further away. No more reading with your mother. No more eating with your father. No more discussing plays with your brother and his wife or anything. A part of your life. Your childhood. Your adolescence. Your youth. All you had known. All you had been raised with was leaving. That a part of you was dead and a new life with new, wild, frightening people was beginning. This time your mother wasn’t there to squeeze your hand and talk about anything. Your sister-in-law couldn’t make you laugh. Your father couldn’t put an arm around you when you cried. And your brother couldn’t rush a man into the woods with a loaded gun to protect you.
Grigor looked down at you and placed an arm around your shoulder. You leaned into him into a half embrace as the carriage holding your family disappeared in the distance like melting snow.
Taglist: @retropetalss @queenlover05 @joeslee (thank you for your insight when I couldn’t decide the ending!) @grigorlee @itsametaphorgwil @always-a-fairycat @foxinaforestofstars @simonedk @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @queenlover05 @xviiarez @kiainspace @gwilymleeisbae @writeroutoftime @staradorned @iwritefanficnotprophecies @panagiasikelia @marshmxllowfluf
#tw: mentions of sex#tw: light smut#kind of#nothing dirty#the great#tw: swearing#tw: mentions of hunting#the great hulu#hulu the great#emperor peter#georgiana dymov#only she isn't dymov here bc you happened whoops#grigor dymov#grigor dymov x reader#grigor dymov x fem! reader#grigor dymov x you#grigor dymov x y/n#mariol#count orlo#gwilym lee characters#girogr dymov x fem! y/n#the great fanfiction#the great fanfic#arranged marriage au#carrie writes
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