“Solstice” Series

Alias

Sark/Nadia

Rating: PG-13

Setting: (ONE)Past, (TWO)present, and (THREE)future. I’m going to assume a lot of things since we don’t know much about Nadia, and the show’s timeline is questionable at the moment.

Summary: That was then. This is now.

*Author’s Note: In this story, William Vaughn did not kidnap Nadia. Solstice means “sun stands still” in Latin. It is celebrated on Dec. 21 (the first day of winter) and June 21 (the first day of summer).

 

 

 

ONE

 

I. Birth

 

winter solstice

 

Winters in Russia were unbearable. The bitter cold ate at your soul until there was nothing left.

 

Unless you fought it.

 

The midwife in the large estate whispered into the expecting mother’s ear, “Fight it.”

 

The mother squeezed the young woman’s hand. Her eyes were shut, tears stinging her eyes as the pain and the cold overcame her. She bit down on her lip to enclose the screams.

 

Another midwife wiped the mother’s brow with a cool towel. She admired the mother’s strength and bravado. Her own mother had wailed and cried during the birth of her siblings.

 

“I can see the baby’s head.”

 

The mother smiled at the announcement. Her child would soon be in this world: alive, breathing, hers.

 

The tiny sound of the baby’s cries echoed in the room.

 

More tears fell from the mother’s eyes. The pain had been worth it. Her head collapsed against the pillow and she let out a sigh of relief.

 

“It is a boy!” The midwife cradled the baby in her arms, wiping away the blood and the fluids. “What a beautiful baby!”

 

The mother reached for her child. “Let me see him.”

 

But just as the baby was placed in her arms, he was quickly taken away. She looked up at her husband. The husband and father who had been absent throughout the birth now wanted to claim his son. His heir.

 

The midwives backed away from the diplomat. They immediately lowered their eyes; all of them suddenly filled with intimidation.

 

The diplomat lifted the baby in his hands, until the rising sun spilled unto the newborn skin. The baby became unusually quiet in his father’s arms. It only pleased the man more. It was a sign that his son would respect his father.

 

“Andrian, the baby…”

 

He didn’t acknowledge his wife’s plea. He kept his eyes on his child. “Julian.” He brought the small warm forehead to his lips. “My son.”

 

 

II. Rebirth

 

summer solstice

 

She thought about Sydney everyday. Random thoughts like how she spent her day, what outfit she wore, what she ate for breakfast. Knowing her father, he probably picked out a dirty sweater and a pair of stained slacks for Sydney, and made cereal for her to eat.

 

She swallowed and realized she tasted bittersweetness.

 

She watched the sun ascend in the sky outside her window. Her breath caused the glass to fog up. She traced a “S” on the window.

 

“Sydney.” She had to say her name out loud. She feared that one day she might forget.

 

She lowered her hand from the window and placed it on her full round stomach. She rubbed it gently and smiled, a soft hum coming from her lips. A lullaby she used to sing to Sydney.

 

What would Sydney say about her little brother or sister? Would she accept her sibling? Would she understand that her mother didn’t choose this baby over her? There was simply no other option.

 

One day she would know.

 

Not today.

 

She dropped her hand from her stomach. A sharp pain spread throughout her body. She clutched the window sill to steady herself. There was wetness in between her thighs.

 

The time was here.

 

 

III. Full Moon

 

the honey moon

 

Nadia. The name rolled off his tongue easily.

 

Julian. She stumbled over his.

 

They met in June. He had just turned fourteen this past December. She was turning fourteen this month.

 

“There’s going to be a full moon tonight,” he said.

 

She looked up to the already-darkened sky. “I don’t see it.”

 

“You will.”

 

She kept her eyes turned upward. “Where are your parents?” She shifted her gaze to him when she didn’t get a response.

 

He sat silently next to her on the grassy hill.

 

Less than a week had passed since her mother had brought Julian home with her. The blonde-haired boy had avoided making eye contact with Nadia. She found it endearing. Almost as endearing as the strange accent when he spoke.

 

“He’s from England,” her mother had told her.

 

England. A far off island Nadia had learned from books. A place with kings and queens, much like Russia and their long-ago dynasties.

 

And now Julian called Russia his home. Nadia and her mother, his only family.

 

He finally decided to answer her question. “They are dead.”

 

“I’m sorry, Julian,” she said softly.

 

“I’m not.” His voice was even softer. He lifted his chin and slightly smiled at the full moon in the sky. “There it is.”

 

She followed his eyes and smiled as well. “It’s beautiful.”

 

**

 

It turned out that Russia was Julian’s home after all. His first home. He spent a part of his childhood making forts in the dense forests and then the later part of his youth walking in London rain.

 

“The moon always stayed the same,” he said. “It was the only thing I could ever be sure of.”

 

And Nadia thought about all the sadness he had inside himself.

 

 

IV. Frozen

 

sun stands still

 

After Julian’s fifteenth birthday, Irina took them ice skating.

 

The last time they had been to the lake, the sky was blue without a cloud in sight. And Nadia had stepped into the water dressed in her bathing suit, her face growing warm with embarrassment and a shy twitch to her mouth. Julian had not noticed.

 

Snowflakes were just descending as the three of them approached the frozen waters.

 

Irina watched her daughter with Julian. Her maternal instincts strongly took over. She had raised the two of them as brother and sister. At least that was her intention.

 

But she saw Nadia put her hand into Julian’s as they glided on the ice. She saw the look in her daughter’s eyes. She saw the light, the sparkle, the life that exuded from her.

 

She had felt that too once upon a time. And that had cost her to lose another child.

 

Sydney, she thought. But she no longer spoke the name. Only…

 

“Nadia!”

 

Dark hair turned to her.

 

“Stay away from the thin ice!” Irina pointed to the side of the lake.

 

“Don’t worry, Mother!” Nadia held up her hand, the hand clutching Sark’s. Like that would protect her from anything and everything.

 

**

 

“She worries too much.” Nadia turned away from the figure on the shore.

 

Julian smiled at her annoyance. “She’s your mother. She has to worry.”

 

“I wish she didn’t.”

 

Julian pulled her hand, taking her along with him as they skated. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. Her long hair had fallen over her eyes. Her round cheeks were red from the cold. Her face was lowered as if she was afraid to look him in the eye.

 

“Has Irina told you about my trip?” he asked.

 

She looked up with confusion. “Where are you going?”

 

“I can’t say,” he said, “but it’ll only be for a few days.”

 

Nadia frowned, but didn’t argue.

 

He smiled again to reassure her. “Just a few days.”

 

She squeezed his hand.

 

Julian noticed.

 

 

V. 21

 

the longest night

 

“Did you know that I’m a part of royalty?”

 

Nadia rolled her eyes. “You? A part of royalty?”

 

Julian nodded. “I’m a Romanov.”

 

“If you’re a Romanov, then I’m the missing Anastasia.”

 

“Maybe you are.”

 

“What?”

 

“Missing.”

 

**

 

Nadia waited by the door for Julian’s return. He had spent his eighteenth birthday away from home. His first one separated from her and her mother.

 

The front door opened when the sun vanished. He barely saw her sitting in the corner.

 

“Julian.” She rose from her seat.

 

He cast her a weary look. Half in darkness. Half in moonlight.

 

She clasped her hands together nervously. “How was your trip?”

 

He shut his eyes as if it hurt to look at anything.

 

She reached for him and found him cold.

 

He let her take him into her arms. She pressed her face into his shoulder and realized he was shaking.

 

“What’s wrong?” she mumbled.

 

He pulled away, turning his face from her. In the dark.

 

She followed him there.

 

“Talk to me,” she said.

 

And still he would not.

 

He let her take him into her arms again. He let her stay. He lowered his mouth towards hers and heard her sigh. And he finally communicated with her.

 

After the kiss, she whispered, “Happy Birthday.”

 

 

VI. Morning Stars

 

celebration of light

 

She left mid-afternoon with the sun scorching the sky and the wispy white clouds swirling overhead.

 

“I need to see Julian before I go.” Nadia pushed her way back inside the house. Her mother pushed her towards the vehicle.

 

“There’s no time,” Irina said.

 

“But—“

 

Irina opened the car door. “You need to leave now.”

 

Nadia obeyed.

 

**

 

“When the time is right, he will understand.”

 

“He will never understand, and he will never forgive.”

 

“He will find it in himself to do both, Irina. I know he will.”

 

She looked at the monk doubtfully. “You don’t know Julian.”

 

Conrad smiled slightly. “Neither do you.”

 

**

 

He returned to an empty home. His hands shook with rage. He curled them into fists and searched for Irina.

 

“Where is she?” he asked when he found the woman.

 

“I’m sorry, but she had to be sent away.” Her inconsiderate tone juxtaposed with her thoughtful answer.

 

“Where?”

 

“She is safe and she will stay that way.”

 

He relaxed his fists. “I could have kept her safe.”

 

“You are, Julian,” she said. “And you will.”

 

**

 

“Name?”

 

“Nadia.”

 

The immigration official glanced up at her. “Your full name, please.”

 

Nadia Deverko.

 

“Santos,” she said. “Nadia Santos.”

 

**

 

Buenos Aires was an easy place to get lost in.

 

Nadia stepped out to her balcony. This was her home now.

 

No, Russia is my home. With my mother.

 

With Julian.

 

She looked up into the night sky. The moon was there. It was the only thing they could be sure of.

 

TWO

 

VII. Years Pass

 

the longest day

 

You read the deciphered message and you immediately understood. Bomani did not and it angered him.

 

“This doesn’t mean a thing,” he said.

 

Yes, it does, but you did not relay him the message.

 

**

 

She slept while you vigorously paced the hotel room.

 

The Passenger.

 

The Passenger.

 

Passenger.

 

Passage.

 

To where?

 

She stirred in bed and lifted her head. “Sark?”

 

You continued pacing, ignoring the traitorous NSA agent.

 

“Sark?” Still she pestered. “Get some sleep, will you, luv?”

 

You walked over to her and kissed her lightly. “You get some sleep, luv. I have a lot on my mind.”

 

She shrugged and returned to bed.

 

And finally it was quiet.

 

**

 

Jack Bristow was looking for The Passenger.

 

“You have to stop him,” Irina said.

 

“How?” you asked.

 

“You have to talk to her,” she said. “You have to tell Sydney about her sister.”

 

**

 

But it was too late. She already knew.

 

“Sloane told me everything,” she said. “My mother had an affair with him, and from that affair, my sister was created.”

 

Can she still understand? Will she understand?

“I’m assuming you know my sister,” Sydney said.

 

“I used to,” you said. “We haven’t seen each other in a long time.”

 

“You grew up with the mother and the sister I never had.” She smiled dryly. “You don’t know how much I hate you right now.”

 

“Hate me all you want, Sydney.” You handed her the plane ticket. “But we have to find Nadia.”

 

 

VIII. Dream Me a Reality

 

the shortest day

 

You heard the doctors talking at your bedside every morning and night. They called you Thalia and sometimes you answered and sometimes you didn’t. Tonight you remained still and they noted that your condition had become worse.

 

With the lights off, you blinked away the tears. How many more days will you allow yourself to be in this hospital? How long will you keep hiding just so you can be safe? You choked back the sobs until they were gone.

 

You closed your eyes and let sleep inside.

 

And it brought along with it dreams.

 

**

 

Morning came and so did she.

 

The woman hovered you, perhaps admiring you. You kept your eyes open and continued with the charade. Be silent. Be still. But your eyes watched as she smiled.

 

“I’m your sister,” she said, and you could hear the tears that were logged in her throat. “My name is Sydney.”

 

Sydney took you out of the bed and placed you into a wheelchair.

 

Let’s see where this is going.

 

In the hallway, a group of guards appeared and questioned Sydney. They won’t let her through. They knew something was not right.

 

You stayed in your chair for a brief moment, but the sounds of Sydney, your sister, beckoned for you to help her.

 

And when it was all over, the guards were down and you and Sydney were up.

 

“Are you really my sister?” you asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

And you believed her.

 

**

 

You escaped with Sydney through the hospital’s underground tunnel system. There was so much you wanted to ask her, but you did not know where to begin. It was still hard to look at her without thinking about your mother.

 

“Where is our mother?” you asked.

 

She hesitated to say anything. “She’s in hiding.”

 

“And Julian?” You had to ask.

 

“I’m right here.” His voice.

 

You turned to him and collided with your dream.

 

 

IX. Summit

 

south pole

 

“Where have you been?”

 

He didn’t want to answer her. Because he had been everywhere and nowhere.

 

So the three of them continued walking in the woods until the small clearing came into view. There a parked car waited for them.

 

“Julian?” Nadia wanted her answer. “Where have you been?”

Sydney looked at Nadia: her new sister and Sark: her new ally. She could see the history catch up to this very moment and it seemed to terrify all of them.

 

“Sark,” Sydney said when he didn’t answer Nadia. “We should get going.”

 

He opened the driver’s door and got in. The two women followed.

 

**

 

Sark escorted the sisters into the fueled jet bound for Russia.

 

We’re going home, Nadia.

 

He sat far from them. He made sure to keep his gaze away from her. And her.

 

He felt a pair of eyes on him. He looked up and saw Nadia watching him. Her legs were brought up to her chest. Her hair, still dark and long, tumbled over her shoulders. Her dark eyes still managed to dig a hole into him. She gave him a small smile.

 

He looked away, resisting the urge to smile back.

 

**

 

Nadia watched him turn away. She narrowed her eyes in confusion.

 

Sydney frowned at her younger sister’s attempt for Sark’s attention. “What was he like? Before, I mean?”

 

“Before what?” Nadia asked.

 

Sydney shrugged. “You obviously knew him as different person. That man over there isn’t your hero. He’s a killer, a criminal. He’s hurt and killed far too many people to still be alive.”

 

“He’s alive because he wants to be.” Nadia kept her eyes on him. “My mother—our mother—taught us to be fighters. It’s a valuable lesson that neither of us ever forgot.”

 

 

X. After

 

north pole

 

Sark kept his promise to Irina and delivered her two daughters to her. Alive and safe.

 

Nadia was quick to embrace her mother. Sydney reluctantly stepped into the room with her arms crossed.

 

Irina extended her arms. “Sydney.”

 

The eldest child continued to sulk.

 

Irina lowered her arms with a polite smile. “There’s so much I have to tell you. All of you.” Her eyes moved from Nadia, to Sark, to Sydney, and back again. “But it can wait. Get some rest.”

 

**

 

Sark’s light sleep was disturbed when he heard his bedroom door creak open. He sat up with his gun drawn.

 

Nadia jumped back with her hands raised. “It’s me.”

 

Sark’s heartbeat slowed and he put down his weapon. “Nadia, what are you doing?”

 

“I wanted to see you,” she said. “We’ve hardly spoken since we arrived home.”

 

Home.

 

“You should rest,” he said. “You’ve had an exhausting day.”

 

She sat down at the foot of his bed. “I’ve had an exhausting life, Julian.”

 

He seemed to cringe at his given name.

 

“I’m sorry for leaving like that.” She lowered her voice. “I wanted to say good-bye, but my mother—“

 

“Your apology isn’t necessary,” he said.

 

A moment of silence passed.

 

“Why are you in here with me?” Sark asked. “Your mother and your sister are under the same roof as you, yet you choose to spend your time with me.”

 

Her eyes became dark pools. “I missed you the most.”

 

It was as simple as that.

 

**

 

Their muffled moans dared not to leak through the walls.

 

What would Irina do if she knew?

 

What would Sydney think if she heard?

 

Sark buried his face in Nadia’s neck. It was different. Not calloused like Alison’s skin. Not brittle like Lauren’s. But soft and warm and inviting. And Sark couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if she had never been sent away. Would he have been the same as her?

 

A soft whisper.

 

A warm hand.

 

An inviting grin.

 

Maybe nothing had changed after all.

 

He saw Nadia bite down on her bottom lip. She was struggling not to cry out. He kept her legs wrapped around him and moved his face towards hers.

 

“Let it out,” he said.

 

He kissed her, slipped his tongue inside, and felt his mouth vibrate with every one of her echoes.

 

And the walls contained their secret.

 

 

THREE

 

XI. Compare and Contrast

 

parallel lines

 

“Do you love our mother, Sydney?”

 

Sydney looked questionably at her younger sister. “Why do you ask?”

 

“You are never affectionate with her,” Nadia said. “You treat her like a disease at times.”

 

“It’s hard to be affectionate towards a woman I never knew.”

 

“Is it hard to love me then?”

 

Sydney shook her head. “You’re my sister.”

 

Nadia understood she had asked the wrong question.

 

“Is it hard to accept me then?” she asked.

 

Sydney didn’t say anything.

 

**

 

“Do you love your father, Sydney?”

 

“Why do you ask?”

 

Nadia shrugged. “I don’t know what’s like to be loved by a father.”

 

“I love my father very much,” she said.

 

“But yet, you want to kill my father.”

 

Sydney uneasily swallowed. “Your father is a very dangerous man. Even our mother wants to keep him away from you.”

 

“Then why does she allow Julian to be in our company?” Nadia’s face reflected that of a curious five-year-old. Questioning her world, the authority, everything. “Isn’t he a dangerous man?”

 

“Sark’s different.”

“How?”

 

He loves you. He loves our mother. He loves…me.

 

Nadia leaned forward. “How is he different, Sydney?”

 

Sydney didn’t say anything.

 

 

XII. Prophecy

 

shine down

 

“One day, you will have to kill her.” Sark tightened his arm around Nadia as she shivered next to him in bed.

 

“I know.” Her voice was empty. She turned around to face him. No matter how many times she heard Sydney or her mother call him Sark, he was always Julian to her. Julian with the fair skin and light hair, eyes blue like their frozen lake, voice tinged with that British accent that she still found so endearing.

 

But that was then.

 

This was now.

 

“If you had choose, Julian,” she said, “if it came down to you making a choice, which one of us would you pick?”

 

He looked at her in the darkened room and found himself dumbfounded. Who would he choose?

 

He kissed her forehead and he was glad to feel that it was still warm. He kept his mouth there and answered her. “I wouldn’t choose either of you.”

 

 

Sark couldn’t tell if that satisfied Nadia. She only lowered her head and laid it on his chest. He pulled her closer and looked out the window.

 

The moon was heavy in the sky. Snowflakes fell from the black void up above.

 

He closed his eyes, content with the night and eager for the day.

 

 

THE END