The Rising of the Sun

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Summary: Illya contemplates the Winter Solstice after returning from a mission.

Illya Kuryakin stood on the rooftop of UNCLE headquarters in New York City, he wore no outer coat, and shoved his hands in  his jacket pockets as he shivered. It felt like snow would be coming soon. He always seemed to be able to sense that.

He and Napoleon had returned only a few hours ago from an assignment in Quebec. It was their mission to verify the existence of yet another THRUSH satrap, another lab manufacturing yet another deadly chemical to do harm to the world's populace .

Innocents were lost this time, a husband and wife who were at the wrong place at the wrong time. They'd turned right instead of left, and found themselves driving head on into a massive explosion.

The Russian wondered what were the odds on that, being there just at the exact moment the explosives he'd set went off in a building in the middle of nowhere. Astronomical, yet there they were, and there was nothing either he or Napoleon could do. It was simply too late. It happened so quickly...

He knew it wasn't his fault, it was a case of bad luck his partner said, yet still a feeling of guilt hung over him. "Proklyatʹye!" He cursed.

Reaching to his inside pocket, he withdrew a pack of Lucky Strikes, and for the third time  in a half hour, lit one up and taking a long drag on it. The sensation of burning in his mouth and lungs made him imagine the pain those people had gone through in their last moments as the flames took them.

Oddly, though, the cigarette felt calming. He knew they were a nasty habit he'd picked up from his days in the orphanage in Moskva, and he'd tried to quit many times, yet when he was stressed, the taste of nicotine worked its magic on him.

The sun was beginning to rise over the city, life was returning. Darkness was being driven back for this Russian, both inside as well as out. He watched as the sky filled with the most vibrant shades of yellow, orange and reds he'd ever seen as the sunlight streamed its way through a floor from one side to the other side of the U.N. building.

Illya found himself wondering when was the last time he'd paid attention to the sunrise, especially this one...the winter Solstice...

He knew all the technical facts...the sun would be directly over the Tropic of Capricorn, about 23.5 degrees south of the equator. For the Northern Hemisphere, the sun on this day would be at the lowest point from the horizon for the entire year. He knew the word "solstice" came from the Latin word "solstitium," literally meaning "the sun is standing."

In Russia dating back to the 12th century, the antlered winter mother goddess was worshiped, Roshnitsa, and she would be given sacrifices of honey, bread and cheese. He had no such things to offer as he gazed at the sun, imagining it was she.

Science and facts be damned...he just wanted to see a beautiful sunrise for once. One that would give him hope this day would be better than the last. Longer days, shorter shadows for people to hide in. Yes...

He threw down his cigarette, snuffing it out with his shoe, and wrapping his arms across his chest, he walked back into headquarters, ready to start another day...a new day. A good day to quit smoking.

.

* note, thanks to Avery11 for the inspiration.

Comments

[avery11.livejournal.com]

Illya inspired by a sunrise--what a lovely image. The photo is stunning, BTW.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thanks to you! I knew the UN was the most visible building near UNCLE HQ, but it took a little time to find one with a cool sunrise. It was more difficult than I thought. Thanks for commenting again! Appreciate it!