Zaporoche~an Illya backstory~ chapter 6

[mlaw]

 link to chapter 5: :http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/225696.html






 At the end of his first lesson, Illya stroked the horse, talking softly to Grom and feeding him a carrot or two as he brushed  him down.

"See," Mykola said, "You have become one with him. He looks into your eyes, see. Return his gaze, let him know you are in charge, but are still his friend. There is no greater feeling than being in touch with your horse and he with you...except that of being with your woman, and seeing your son born."

"Thank you Ivan Petrovich, I will have to take your word on the other things, but yes, there is nothing I can compare to riding this horse. It is like he is in my head, and I can feel his thoughts as well."

"You haven't had a woman? How is this possible for a handsome fellow such as yourself?" Ivan half laughed at him as he slapped his thighs.

Illya blushed. He was not one for talking about such personal things, and there was only one girl he'd ever been with at the orphanage, but that seemed like it was ages ago, even though it was not.

At school he avoided females and went on about his studies.

"Ah so you have felt the love of a girl perhaps," Mykola teased him.

"Yes," Illya spoke shyly, thinking of Natasha. It was she who tenderly taught him how wonderful sex could be. After leaving that life behind, Illya denied his yearnings, thinking only of Natasha, who was lost to him...*

"I see, shy you are," Mykola changed his tone of voice. "Fear not, as the way the girls here have been looking at you since you first arrived, one of them, no doubt, will grant you her favor. Just be careful when it happens that you do not get her pregnant..." Ivan winked at him, he passed a pouch to the young Russian, and snorted at Illya's reaction when he saw the contents were condoms made of sheep intestines.

Illya tucked the bag in his belt, trying to control his embarrassment and returned his attention to Grom. He did as he was told, and after gazing eye to eye, the horse nuzzled him, looking for a few more pets. The Russian smiled, figuring a few more carrots wouldn't hurt.

In the following days he continued joining the men at their work, listening as they sang while going about their daily tasks, the strong Kubanskiye Kаzaki, building their shelters.




The traditional music of the Kuban Cossacks was rather peculiar. It could be divided into two main styles, Black Sea with a strong Ukrainian influence and Linear with strong Russian influence. The reason was that this Cossack group, the second largest Cossack Host, after the Don, was formed by the former Zaporozhians of the Black Sea, that was why there were songs that considered to be Cossack songs by Cossacks, and Ukrainian by Ukrainians.

The most typical in Cossack music was similar to an "Indo-Chinese", or "Scottish" scale, being pentatonic and adding to the melody particular coloring, unusual to the ear accustomed to the harmonic combination of a classical musical scale.

Illya discovered, having a good ear, that in spite of linguistic similarities, songs of Zaporozhian Cossacks differed from Ukrainian music due to the domination of the same nature sounds of "eastern" five-tone scale.

He had a gift for these sort of things when it came to music, he seemed to have a natural understanding of it. Music became one of his secret passions, especially the kind called "jazz." Though it was banned in the Soviet Union, on could listen to it if one knew where to find it. Being under the wing of GRU had some advantages.

Some of the Cossack songs were so popular among Non-Cossack Russians, that no one even realized that they were actually Cossack songs. There were songs about Cossacks, urban songs, which most of people thought were the Cossack ones, though Illya discovered this was not exactly true.

There was a song they sang one day, called "Da u morya_Oh by the sea," Illya had heard it before and was surprised to find out it was a Kazak song, and one he realized they were singing for him, as it was about going off to the sea and referenced 'Illya Muromets.'

"I akh, ya byla na more, po elektronnoy moryushku , akh, da , more sineye ,

O, more sineye I, okh, kak sinyaya byla, moryushku , da, morskiye, Khvalynskoye,

I, okh ... sineye more, na Khvalynskaya YA tam vozbezhivali korablichki , da, rovno tridtsatʹ tri korablya_

And oh I was at sea, by e moryushku, oh yes, sea blue, Oh, by the sea blue, And oh, how the blue was, moryushku, oh yes, by sea, by Khvalynskoye, And, oh ... blue sea, on Khvalynskaya, And there vozbezhivali korablichki, oh yes, exactly thirty-three ships.

And oh, how one or some of them, her one falcon ship, Oh, in advance, the rascal, soon runs. But oh well it was on this korablichke, oh izukrashennay Her one Korab

A second nose feed that have been in this korablichke an animal, And oh what zvedeny side to this korablichke a snake. A second of the eyes, it was on this road korablichke stones sapphires, And oh it was an eyebrow at this korablichke black sable Siberia.

And oh mustache that was on this korablichke Vostro nozhechki bulatnyya,And oh for the tail was on this korablichke two bears white. A second one Chervon izuveshenna Her ship, oh, red velvet, her one Korab, A second one decked Her Chervon ship, oh, fine zemchugom, her one Korab.

And oh, and the owner was on this korablichke Illya Muromets, son Ivanovic."

Mykola elbowed him, with a wink. "I think they will miss you volchonka when it is time for you to go to sea in your great boat."

"I will miss this place too, and you all Ivan Petrovich," Illya smiled, as it had been a long time since he'd been called 'wolfcub.' That was a name his family used to call him, and now it seemed his Kazak family did as well. It made Illya Nickovich Kuryakin feel more at home than he had since he was a child living in the dacha outside of Kyiv.

Yes he would miss this place very much. His time was growing short, but in nearly four weeks he'd learned much more than he'd expected. Yes, his dream of riding like the great Cossacks had come true, but he'd come to love the people even more.

They were a simple but great people and he only hoped he could be like them in some way. Perhaps a life of simplicity, a lack of material attachment would suffice. Illya chuckled at himself, thinking he sounded like a monk, wanting to take a vow of poverty.

In a way he'd lived under such vows already. He owned nothing of value, as his was a life of extremes. Hunger, deprivation, self-control...so many things he learned as a child, and things he'd learned from GRU and Viktor Karkoff.

The man pretended to be a father figure to him, but was nothing more than a strict taskmaster, who took little joy in life and he expected the young Kuryakin to be the same way.

Yet Illya refused; he did as he was told, but Viktor would never drive the spark of humanity that still lived within him.

.

* ref "The Orphanage"