Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I actually attempted this AU back in 2003/2004, funnily enough. If you want to read and cringe, check it out.

This time, I had to exclude Aisha and Suzuka from the story because it wouldn’t work on a human/earth/non-scifi AU. While Melfina CAN pass as human, Aisha cannot, and although Suzuka IS human, I dunno where she would fit in.

The family portrayed here (Redmington) isn’t royal but a fictional wealthy American family that became rich just before the Gilded Age (1870s-1900) and was prominent in Alaskan society throughout history. The father is a Republican governor, not very popular with the ordinary folks but still won the gubernatorial election, twice.

As such there ARE original characters in this story that interact with the canon characters.

I’ve attempted this AU partly due to the songs, and the characters will be singing. This will be in comic format, so there will be embedded images in this fanfic. The only song, however, that doesn’t really change is Journey to the Past. The voices are based on the English dub but if you want, I guess the Japanese voices would work too. I wouldn’t know. I never saw OLS subbed.

I’ve done quite a bit of research but there are many aspects in which I’ve decided to take liberties.

Lastly, I hope you do enjoy this. This s my love letter to both Anastasia and Outlaw Star.

Chapter Text

It was mid-November, 1968.

I visited my younger brother and his family. My brother, Richard Redmington III, was the second governor of the State of Alaska. The people of Alaska re-elected him, and Rick decided to rent a cruise ship, The Grand Duchess, for a celebration party while it sailed by the glaciers.

The party was held in The Grand Duchess' large ballroom. People danced or congregated, the band played popular songs, and the younger children gathered at their own tables.

Now, as much as I loved all of my brother’s children, I had a special bond with the fourth child. Marietta Louise Redmington was the youngest of four daughters, eight years old, kind, sometimes mischievous, and always wanting to make people happy and laugh. I had a surprise for her and hoped she would like the gift. Richard was scheduled to make a toast in several minutes, and I thought that was a good time to call Marietta over to me at my table.

“It’s later, Auntie! Can I have my surprise, now?” she asked me.

I laughed. “Yes.” And I showed it to her. I had the music box and the key commissioned. I even picked the song for it. The key was a golden nine-petal flower and the music box was round and gold.

Marietta watched curiously as I inserted the key into the bottom of the music box and twisted it. Then the music box slowly opened and revealed a ballerina slowly spinning as the song played. I watched Marietta light up and gasp.

“Oh, Auntie, it plays our lullaby!”

“Yes, do you like it?”

“I do, thank you!”

I brought her hand to mine. “You can play it each night before you go to sleep and pretend it’s me singing.”

Then I sang, “On the wind, across the deep blue sea, hear this lullaby and remember.” Then she joined me, “One day you will soon be home with me, indeed once upon a December.”

Every Christmas, I’d take her somewhere, and it would be just the two of us. I did the same for all children, but with Marietta, it had to be around Christmas.

I took the key out of the ignition and gave it to her. “Turn the key around.”

She did and read the words, “ Together in Tokyo. ” She gasped and embraced me. “Oh, Auntie!”

But we would never be together in Tokyo that Christmas.

An uninvited guest made his way inside the ballroom. A tall, burly man, wearing some kind of mask and monk clothes, walked into the dancefloor, and all the dancers moved out of his way. The man took off his mask to reveal a hardened face with a scar and awful eyes. He made his way toward Rick, who was in the middle of making a toast. I could see anger written on my brother’s face.

With great restraint, he asked, “Hazanko, why are you here?”

“I never received my invitation,” answered Hazanko, “so I thought I might invite myself.”

“I didn’t invite you for a reason! And what are you doing with that mask, you’re scaring everyone—especially the children!”

Hazanko pointed his finger at my brother. “I was promised a position from you, and you took that away from me! And now is my chance to get my revenge.”

“Hazanko,” said my brother, with a concerned look on his face now, “Why don’t we discuss this some other time—”

“I sold my soul to obtain magic, and now that I have perfected it,” Hazanko held up some type of amulet, “I’ll show you what happens when you mess with me.” He turned to the guests.

“Hear me out!” He called out. “I have cursed this family and I will not rest until I see the end of the Redmington line forever!” 

Marietta gasped and clung to me. 

“You’re insane!” my brother shouted. Hazanko held up his amulet again and, I couldn’t believe my eyes, lightning emulated from the amulet to the chandelier, and it fell, scaring everyone.

And he disappeared.

While we were trying to come to terms with what just happened, an explosion rocked the ship that night. Then gunshots were heard and people began screaming. Terrorists planted a bomb in the engine room, and then they kicked the cabin doors open on our floor and massacred each passenger. The passengers and crew on the other floors, and anyone who managed to escape these terrorists on our floor, fled to the top.

But my younger brother and his family would never make it.

Marietta was sleeping with me in my cabin. If she had stayed in the cabin with two of her siblings…

We heard screams from their cabin and then gunshots, making us both jump and hold onto each other.

“Auntie, what happened?!” Marietta cried.

“I don’t know…” I got out of bed and put on a robe. She got up to put on hers as well.

“Where’s the governor’s sister?!” one of them shouted.

“She’s in this room!” yelled another.

They banged on my door. Passengers weren’t allowed to carry weapons, but I brought a gun. 

The door was kicked open and three men barged in with their weapons, aiming at us. Marietta screamed, I shot them all, and they fell to the floor. I heard crew members then, stopping at my door and gasping at the three bodies.

“Are these the terrorists?!” One of them asked.

“Yes, please check on my brother and his family!” I pleaded.

I heard a scream. The owner of that scream, another crew member, came to us and shouted, “The governor’s dead! The entire family is dead!” My poor niece was hysterical, crying for her father.

“Mrs. Tanaka, you saved us,” the first crew member said, tossing a life jacket at me. “Now we gotta return the favor. These guys planted a bomb and it exploded. The ship’s on fire and sinking, so get to the lifeboats, quickly!” The crew members left to check for more survivors.

I gave my life jacket to the sobbing Marietta and had to get her to follow me. We put on our coats and she put the music box in her pocket, wearing the key.

I didn’t realize how badly the ship was already tilting until Marietta slid to the wall, struggling to walk. We walked along the wall, the corridor no longer congested with passengers. 

But I began to smell smoke. Just as we made a turn, there was another explosion.

“We gotta hurry!” I said.

It was then when we bumped into Hazanko with his amulet. I began to suspect it was he that sent the three men after my family.

“You won’t get away from me!” he roared. Marietta screamed and I did the only thing I could do. 

I shot him in the chest, and he fell to the floor. Glad that I had avenged my family, I took Marietta’s hand and ran past the body as smoke began to fill the hallway.

He grabbed one of her ankles and she tripped and fell.

“Lemme go!” she yelled.

“You won’t escape me, child!” he sneered.

I aimed the gun and shot him in the eye. Marietta ran and clung to me, coughing. The smoke was blinding us, and I was more than determined to get us out of there.

While making our way down the hallway, we saw a little red-haired boy, slightly older than Marietta, wearing a life jacket.

He was crying.

I ran to him. “Where are your parents?”

“Dad’s dead, they shot him,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“I am very sorry. We need to go, quickly.”

“I know a quicker way out,” he said, rubbing his eyes. He led us down the hallway until he stopped randomly. He leaned down and…

I couldn’t believe my eyes, he opened a wall! The wall had a secret door!

“Follow me,” he said. And we did. We went up the long spiral stairs until we reached another door. He opened it, and we were at the top! But the smoke was already out there. We all coughed from it.

I turned to him. “How can we thank you?”

“Just get to a lifeboat.”

“Come with us,” said Marietta.

“I can’t,” he replied. “I gotta get back to my dad and bring him up here.” Before I could say anything, he ran off.

“Wait!” Marietta called out after him, and I ran after her. The smoke was getting heavier, and I could hardly see. When I got to the children, I saw Marietta give the boy something, probably a little trinket to thank him.

She was such a kind and generous child.

I thanked him one last time, and we went our separate ways.

The back of the ship was full of panicking passengers and crew, many sliding down the increasingly steep deck and into the water. Marietta herself almost slid and fell into the water, but I grabbed her as we held onto the railing near the back of the ship. Smoke now engulfed the back, and it blinded us so. The stench was too great. 

I was able to make out lifeboats on the lower side of the ship leaving. I tried to figure out how we could safely climb down to these lifeboats, but a crew member told me they were all gone. We still had the ones on the top side.

“What about these lifeboats?” I asked. “Why aren’t they ready?” I began coughing from the smoke again.

“I’m afraid we can’t use them,” he replied. And I was flabbergasted. I couldn’t understand why.

He explained that the ship was “listing too greatly on the starboard side” to use these lifeboats, and he told me to calm down. Before I got even angrier, as I had no idea what those words meant and as I hated to be told to calm down, he told me that two ships with their own lifeboats arrived and that they’ll rescue us. Indeed, I could see a small ship out in the distance with lifeboats.

I looked for my niece only to find out she had climbed up on the other side of the railing. There were other people doing this as the ship began tilting, or “listing” further.

“Come up here, Auntie, it’s safer!” she told me.

“Marietta! Get down right now!” I shouted. I didn’t care that other people were doing it. People were jumping overboard the frigid water and I didn’t want that to happen to her.

She slipped and screamed.

I held onto her hand. The crew member next to me grabbed the other.

“Help me!” she cried.

I shouted, “Hang on!”

“Don’t let go!” We did all we could to save my niece while gripping onto the railing from the deck’s side. We were actually pulling her up. We were so close.

Then, a muffled explosion rocked the ship, and we both lost our grips.

“Marietta!!” I screamed as she screamed and fell, sliding down the ship. I couldn’t even see her fall into the water.

My Marietta was gone, and I would never see her again.

Chapter Text

Richard Redmington wasn’t the only political figure assassinated in 1968. In fact, 1968 was one of the bloodiest years in politics. Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy were gunned down earlier that year, but their families were spared.

While the left and the far right criticized Governor Redmington’s political actions and choices, people throughout the country expressed sympathy for the wife and children, among others, being gunned down. No child deserved to be killed. Thankfully, since no one knew where the terrorists stood politically, no riots occurred in Alaska. In fact, the country stood by the state, wanting an end to all this violence.

Alaska slowly recovered from the ordeal. New governors were elected. Life slowly returned to normal.

It’s the middle of March in the year 1978.

While much of the United States experiences the first signs of Spring, it’s much different in Alaska.

Snow is firmly planted on the ground, on cars, and on buildings in downtown Anchorage. It’s nighttime, and anyone who would be out and about at this time are out and about.

One of the bars open tonight has a jukebox, a small television that reports more snow tomorrow, and patrons gathering at the counter and tables, warming themselves up by drinking copious amounts of alcohol. The owner cleans his glasses, shaking his head at some of the louder patrons, and the perky waitress serves and chats with some of the patrons.

“Disappointing news tonight,” the news anchor begins, “A wealthy Japanese banker’s widow, and heroine of the 1968 Grand Duchess disaster, Susan Tanaka, has discovered that the girl she thought was her long lost niece, was in fact an imposter.”

An eleven-year-old boy, someone that shouldn’t be in any bar, raises an eyebrow at the television, as the news reporter gives a brief explanation of this Grand Duchess disaster. She emphasizes that it was a massacre and sinking and that the governor and his family were murdered there by terrorists.

“You know,” the boy begins, “they still haven’t found out where those terrorists came from or how they got on the ship.” He sits there at the counter in silence before turning around. “Gene, are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, yeah,” a red-haired man waves him off, his eyes on the cards in his hand. Sitting across from him is another man, and two of his friends, one with cards in his hand and the other acting as the “dealer.” The perky waitress now sits between them; anxiously watching the game unfold.

The boy sighed. “Why does he insist on gambling here?” he mutters to himself.

The news anchor concludes with, “Susan Tanaka is currently offering one million dollars to anyone who knows the whereabouts of her niece. More tragic news as Palestinian forces…”

“Wow, Gene,” the boy says, “did you hear that?”

“Yeah, I’m busy here!” the man snaps back.

“Whatever…”

This man, Gene, glances at one of his opponents. “So, nothing else to bet, Horace?”

“Oh no, I got something,” Horace replies, “Feast your eyes on these tickets.” He holds up three of them, gesturing at Gene, before putting them on the middle of the table with all the cash each of them had, plus a golden spheroid object belonging to Gene. The third man groans at the sight of the tickets.

“Tickets to a hockey game?” Gene assumes.

Horace retorts with a huff, “No, they’re plane tickets!”

Gene looks back and forth between the tickets and Horace.

“Are you crazy, man?!” the third man exclaims to Horace. “You know we need those tickets!”

“I agree.”

“Shut up, Gene!” Horace snaps. He then smirks. “What’s-a-matter? Afraid?”

Gene glances at Jim, as if to ask for his permission. And Jim shakes his head no, furiously. Gene decides that it’s Opposite Day.

“I’m betting my car!”

“Oh for crying out loud!” Jim exclaims.

“Your car, eh?” the “dealer” asks.

“We’re gonna have another snowy night,” Horace speaks with a low chuckle. “I hope your little coat’s warm enough for ya.”

Gene smirks. “Shut the hell up and decide if you’re gonna exchange some cards.”

“Nah, I’m fine with the cards I got.”

“Well, I’m gonna exchange two cards.” And Gene exchanges two cards. He turns to the third guy. “What about you?”

The third guy exchanges three cards. Gene smiles inwardly as the guy groans again.

The dealer looks at all three of them before locking his eyes with Horace’s.

“You first.”

“Hah!” Horace slaps his cards on the table, and they all blink at them. The third guy breathes a sigh of relief, while Gene frowns. It’s a full house .

The dealer smiles and then glances at the third guy. “All right Brett.”

Brett places his cards on the table. Pretty much nothing.

The dealer looks at Gene. “Whatcha got?” 

Gene glares at him, but then he gives him a big grin and slaps his cards down on the table. The other three gape at this. You see, Gene’s got a ten, the king, the queen, the jester and the ace card! A royal flush , the highest hand anyone can get!

“A royal flush?” Horace murmurs. “A royal flush ?!”

Gene’s grin turns sheepish. “Pretty cool, huh?”

Horace is seething.

“You… you sonofabitch!” He stands up and takes out his pocket knife. People gasp. The bartender and Jim blink, and the waitress calls out for Gene.

“Oh no !” The bartender claps his hands twice. “We’re not doing this here!” 

Gene blinks and sighs. “I’m not about to fight you in Clyde’s bar, man.”

“Hah! A cheater and a coward. C’mon you little shit. I’ll show you what happens when you screw with Horace!” Horace takes out another knife.

Gene stands up. “I didn’t cheat, and I just said I ain’t tearing up this place.”

“Then how the fuck did you get a royal flush?!”

“Don’t ask me, ask your friend.” He jerks his thumb at the dealer, who is just as pissed off as Horace. “He’s the one that shuffled the cards, otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten a full house , jackass!”

“That’s it!” Horace shouts. “You’re gonna pay, you little shit!”

“That’s it!” the bartender known as Clyde announces. “I’m calling the cops.”

That seems to calm Horace down. He glares at Clyde before pointing one knife at Gene, putting away the other.

“This isn’t over!” Horace threatens as he walks out, leaving the tickets on the table. His friends follow him, and the other patrons whisper and murmur to each other.

“Don’t come back!” Clyde calls out as the door’s opened and slammed.

Gene lets out a sigh of relief, grabbing all of the cash and the tickets and putting the golden object back in his coat pocket.

“Oh Gene!” The waitress runs to him and hugs him tightly. “I was so afraid!” Gene smiles gently and returns the hug.

“Oh, Iris, I’m fine. Besides, I got a gun.” Clyde groans at this.

”Gene, this is the second time a fight nearly broke out in my bar because you cheated at poker.”

“I didn’t cheat!”

“And you brought a gun ?”

“Gotta protect myself, and you all for that matter.”

Iris glances at Clyde. “He’s right, you know.”

Clyde simply stares at them. He gestures to the table. “Clean up your area before you leave.”

“And while you’re at it,” Jim mutters, “take your hand off Iris’s ass and make sure those guys didn’t slash your tires.”

Gene pauses. “Shit!” He releases Iris, grabs his coat, and runs out of the bar.

Clyde and Jim look at each other before they both shake their heads. 

Waiting as the car heats up, and wondering why his tires haven’t been slashed, Gene takes a good look at the three plane tickets he’s just won.

The departure date is set for the 19th. This means he has four days to sell them.

This is what he’s been doing since he got fired from his job at the oil reserve. It’s not like he hasn’t any money left, but since his savings are dwindling fast, he figures he can get by with winning money (by gambling for cash), doing odd jobs, or selling items people might want.

He blinks when he looks at the destination. 

Tokyo, Japan.

What the hell was Horace doing with tickets to Tokyo ? Well, he was stupid enough to bet on them and now they belong to Gene.

He turns to Jim. “Wanna go to Tokyo?” Jim blinks at this.

“That’s what those tickets are for?”

“Yep, for the 19th,” Gene replies as he puts them in the glove compartment.

“You know we almost didn’t have a car, right?” Gene rolls his eyes as Jim continues, “Or any cash to take the cab back to the mansion. Or your golden thing, whatever that is.”

“Except we do, and tons of cash.” Gene gives him a sheepish grin. 

Jim lets out an exasperated sigh, because Gene always does this, betting on everything he has and not always getting the money back. He’s goddamn lucky this time.

“Look, sometimes you gotta take risks,” Gene says. “Otherwise, you’ll get nowhere. You think Hugh Hefner got where he is by not taking risks?”

It takes Jim a moment before he realizes that this Hefner guy produces Playboy . “…Anyway,” he replies, “you don’t even speak Japanese.”

“Do you?”

“Nope.”

“Well I have a friend who does.” Gene ponders the possibility of going to Japan. His friend may speak Japanese, but he’s really not wanting to meet him. Plus, how would he get in touch with Clyde and Iris?

“Forget it,” he decides finally, driving his car away from the sidewalk and Clyde’s bar. “I’d rather go to Hollywood. Or New York.” He turns on the radio and Aerosmith is playing.

“That’d be outta sight!” The boy grins, but then he frowns. “Dunno how much money I’d have, though.”

Gene says nothing. This is probably what runaways have to deal with, having a finite amount of money that they probably stole from their parents. Not that he’s making any assumptions about Jim regarding that. 

They somehow managed to hit it off when they met, and Jim somehow became a sidekick to him. One thing Gene decided not to do was ask Jim why he, a prodigy, ran away from his home. It was best to let the kid tag along with him without any assumptions. And things would be fine until their roles would reverse.

Jim is quite mature for his age, and Gene unfortunately acts younger than he is, which is twenty-one.

Jim snuggles against his seat, glancing over at the street lights, the handful of people walking (or at least trying to, as no one has bothered to shove the sidewalks), a moose messing with a trash can when they’ve caught the red light.

There’s another moose, a female one. Moose walking around people’s houses or establishments shocks no one. 

“Think we’ll see the Northern Lights tonight?” Jim asks as an Aerosmith song ends.

Gene looks up at the clouds, which makes the sky as brown as a cup of coffee with lots of cream. “Doubt it.”

Jim sulks. “Dammit.” He sighs. “Well since going to Tokyo is out of the question, what are you gonna do with the tickets?”

“I’ll sell ‘em.”

“Of course you’d say that. How much are you charging?”

“One hundred.”

Jim gapes. “Gene, are you serious? Who’s gonna come up with that kinda money in four or five days?”

“I’ll get someone,” Gene grins with a wink. “Trust me.”

“I’d rather I didn’t.”

“I’ll start tomorrow.” Gene takes a turn to a backroad, driving ever closer to this mansion. 

“Who’s gonna wanna go to Tokyo, anyway?”

“I’m sure someone around here does.”

Chapter Text

The next morning, a few snowflakes flutter from the sky like the small amount of confetti at an intimate party. It snowed heavily overnight, and now all walkways in the woods, away from the city, are covered with a huge blanket of snow. Trees, evergreen or otherwise, are heavy with blankets of snow on the branches and tips. The air couldn’t be more fresh and crisp. 

Except for the occasional gust of wind, all is quiet.

There stands a three-story building, with a gate and fence around it. A short, older woman comes out of the door with no coat. Following her is a young woman—who is wearing a coat—and carrying a suitcase. The boots from both women kill the calm silence outside as they crunch on the snow.

“Like I said,” the older woman begins, “take that letter and picture with you and show it to Mr. Schmitt at the fish factory, and he’ll give you work there.”

“Okay,” a small voice comes out from the younger woman’s mouth, her black hair obscuring her face.

“And he’ll probably help you find a place to live. Far as I’m concerned, it’s not our problem anymore!” The young woman sighs as the older woman continues, “We’ve fed you, clothed you, and kept a roof over your head. You’re old enough now to earn your keep and to be a productive member of society.”

She unlocks the gate. “And learn to be grateful like the nameless no-account you are!” she finishes, opening the gate. The snow on the ground makes it difficult, so she ends up pushing it open.

The girl blinks. “But I am grateful, Miss Trembly!”

“Hah!” Miss Trembly pushes the girl out to the other side of the gate. “Grateful, my foot! I swear, how is it that you don’t have a damn clue about who you are?”

“I do have a cl—”

“Oh I know,” Miss Trembly grasps the pendant that the girl is wearing and reads the words on the back of it. “Together in Tokyo!” She grins. “So, you wanna go to China or wherever to find your family, hmm?”

The girl nods excitedly, even though she knows that Tokyo is in Japan. Miss Trembly’s grin fades and she points at her.

“Listen Melfina, like I said, it’s time to earn your keep. You can start by stop fantasizing about bullshit, and learn to be grateful!”

Miss Trembly shuts the gate and begins laughing. “Together in Tokyo ! Hah! You don’t even know how to speak all that ching chang chong talk!” Melfina can only sigh as this woman walks back inside, the laughter turning into cackles. “Tokyo! Kawasaki! Sukisuki now!” 

The racist gibberish that the woman has spit out has made Melfina uncomfortable as she walks down the road. As did her cackle.

That woman never cared about her at all, or any of the foster children, treating the children who weren’t white especially harsh.

At least she doesn’t have to put up with Trembly anymore.

Truthfully, Melfina is grateful that Trembly got her a job. She threw most of the others out in the street with nothing—especially nonwhite youth. Melfina is also grateful that another member of the staff secretly gave her twenty-five dollars. A lot more than the puny change for bus fare. She’s actually looking forward to starting her new life as an independent and free woman. So it’s a fish factory. Everyone has to start somewhere. Who knows, she might actually like the job.

Then, she comes across a fork in the road with two signs. The left sign says Scottsdale, while the right sign says Anchorage.

Scottsdale is a fisherman’s village and the location of her new job. Then she looks at the other sign. Trembly said to go left. Thankfully, there will be a bus stop nearby and that bus will take her to Scottsdale. At least that’s what Trembly said.

She also thinks back to when the lady laughed at her because she wanted to go to Tokyo. She looks at the pendant of her necklace.

Together in Tokyo.

“Scottsdale provides me with a job,” she murmurs to herself, “but I’ll be known as Melfina Ward—the orphan—forever. If I turn right, I’ll have to fend for myself in the city.” She’s heard terrible stories about living in a city. “But Anchorage has an airport.”

And an airplane can take her to Tokyo.

See, she doesn’t want to be Melfina Ward anymore. That isn’t even her real name. She used to be someone else. Whoever that was.

Melfina used to watch as children and youth either got sent to a foster family, brought back, or were actually adopted. Usually, it’s the smallest children that have the best luck.

So, no one bothered to look at her. 

She was a good girl, she never caused trouble, and younger children thought she was the nicest person they ever met. The children loved her so much that those that were sent to foster families or adopted cried when they left her.

But no adult wanted her, so she was stuck in a youth home.

Now she has the opportunity to find out who she is—was.

So why are tears welling up in her eyes? 

So many what-ifs plague her mind. What will happen if she goes right, but is unable to go to Tokyo? What if things go wrong? And then she wouldn’t be able to go to Scottsdale because she would’ve thrown that opportunity away by going to Anchorage. What if she doesn’t find a job in Anchorage? She’ll have no home to go to and she might encounter scary people itching to take advantage of her.

And she’ll still be Melfina Ward.

And what happened before she ended up in the hospital, with a cold body—barely alive?

Why was she abandoned?

Melfina can no longer hold back her sobs. She finds herself sitting in the snow, grabbing the pendant, wishing she could make up her mind, wishing someone loved her. When the sobs subside, she fiddles with the pendant.

“Whoever gave me this necklace must have loved her,” she whispers, sniffling. No one would give something so pretty to someone they didn’t love.

She sniffles again, feeling better now that she’s had that cry, something she had denied herself of for days. Her head hurts, but the necklace gives her some hope. She glances at the right sign again.

Then, she shakes her head, wanting to cry again.

“I don’t even know how to speak Japanese…” she murmurs.

But the person who loved her might be there.

She stands up, taking off one of her gloves to wipe away her tears, before putting it back on. The cold air is too much for her skin.

A harsh gust of wind blows to the right, causing Melfina to glance in that direction again. The lure of being able to go to the airport to find her family makes her consider Anchorage more and more. She fiddles with the pendant one last time before tucking it under her coat. Fastening the scarf around her neck, she closes her eyes, inhales and exhales.

Is it a good idea to do this?

Chapter Text

The icebreaker slowly makes its way towards the Port of Anchorage, its bow breaking through pack ice, which fascinates Melfina as she inches ever so close to the port, and the buildings of Anchorage grow larger. The icebreaker captain was kind enough to let Melfina on the icebreaker for free, so she thanks him kindly as she hops off the boat.

Now that she’s in the city, she needs to find the airport. She decides to take a walk around the area. Perhaps she can catch a cab.

It doesn’t take her long to realize that a cab may not show up at the port, so she ends up walking deeper into the city until she reaches a church.

Melfina spots a cab, but when she tries to call out for it, like how people do it on television (the few times she was allowed to watch television, anyway), it zooms past her. Refusing to give up, she walks towards downtown, asking a person how to get there.

An hour passes before she’s finally at an area where she can call out for a cab. Sure enough, one stops by her and happy as she can be, she hops on.

“Where to, honey?” asks the driver.

“Um, the airport,” she replies, feet aching and cold. She’s almost certain her toes have frostbite at this point. Her fingers aren’t much better.

“The Anchorage International Airport?” He glances at her from the rear view mirror.

Is that the name of the airport? She affirms it, and he speeds on down the road. The car’s heater welcomes her with open arms, and its radio’s playing a song, something along the lines of a baby coming back. She’s too focused on the buildings, the people, and the cars to care about the radio or the fact that she’s so cold and tired from walking. Only her aching toes distract her from taking in the city and everything it has to offer.

Eventually, they arrive at the airport. Melfina can only blink at the humongous building and then at a plane as it takes off.

Eight dollars and seventy-five cents is the trip’s fare. Melfina doesn’t have change, so she gives him nine dollars. She waits for the driver to give her change…except he doesn’t.

She would’ve asked him for a quarter back, but then remembers that cab drivers get tips. She opens the door and hops out.

“Thank you very much,” she speaks as she’s about to shut the door.

“Whoa-whoa-whoa! Wait a minute, honey.”

Melfina raises an eyebrow. The driver holds out his hand.

“A quarter ain’t a tip, Imma need at least fifteen percent of the fare.”

Melfina once saw a movie in which a passenger gave a cab driver a quarter and he accepted it. Then again, it was an old movie, so maybe a quarter isn’t enough now.

“I gotta eat and live like you and everybody else.”

“What’s fifteen percent of eight dollars and seventy-five cents?” she ends up asking.

“I dunno! Didn’t they teach you that in school?!”

Melfina gives the driver a dollar, apologizes, and shuts the door. She makes a run for it until she enters the airport.

There are so many people in this gigantic place that Melfina fears she might be lost.

There are a couple of taxidermy mounts of wild animals to be gawked at. There is even a small restaurant and a bar. Strangely enough, between the small restaurant and bar, more people have chosen the bar.

Soon she spots the customer service booth. There are two lines of people with suitcases, and Melfina takes her place behind one of them.

Once she’s next in-line, the customer service representative takes a look at Melfina before asking, “How can I help you?”

“A ticket to Tokyo, please,” Melfina replies with a grin, her heart racing again as she takes out her wallet from her suitcase. All she has to do is take this plane to Tokyo, and there, she’ll find her family.

She’s just within reach. She can practically taste it.

“That’ll be two hundred forty dollars.”

Or not.

Melfina, shocked at such a price, looks down at her wallet. That cab ride to the airport cost her almost ten dollars if you count the tip. Disheartened, she can only say, “I only have fifteen dollars.”

The customer service rep raises an eyebrow, and takes a deep sigh. “You do realize you also need a passport, right?”

“What’s a passport?”

The representative let’s put an especially exasperated sigh. “…It’s a document. You need that to travel out of the country.”

“Where can I get that?”

“Come on, lady!” a man shouts. Melfina looks behind her and sees quite a few people in line, grumbling and very annoyed. She decides that it’s not worth asking any more questions. She gives the customer service representative a sad smile.

“Thank you,” and at that, she leaves.

Meanwhile…

“T-Tickets to Tokyo, tickets to T-Tokyo!” Gene yells out, covered in some snow. Jim, also covered in snow, is standing next to him, shaking his head and trembling at the frigid wind. When the weatherman said that the cold chill would make it feel like it’s three degrees below zero, he wasn’t kidding!

So, it would’ve been a good idea to do this at the airport where it’s warm and where Gene might actually find customers, but no! He instead tries this in front of the downtown market. The two were already forced to leave the Fourth Avenue Theatre’s property.

In either case, people have kept on walking past them.

Gene sighs, taking out a cigarette and lighter with shaky hands, despite wearing gloves. Jim raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t t-tell me you’re t-tired already,” the kid murmurs, trembling again as a harsh gust of wind hits his face.

“Nah, I’m n-not letting this get t-to me,” Gene replies with a proud face, wishing he hadn’t forgotten his hat. They’ve been outside since morning. “I’m t-telling you, I’ll get someone.” 

Jim decides to lean against a streetlight.

A woman stands in front of them.

“You’re looking for an Anastasia?” she asks with a husky Russian accent.

Before either can reply, her fur coat drops to the snow-covered ground and she puts a hand to her hip, wearing a skimpy outfit, very inappropriate for this type of weather. She clears her throat.

“Grandmama, it’s me, your Anastasia!” Her hips sway.

The pair can only blink.

“Did I get the part?”

Gene and Jim can only glance at each other. “We’re selling… plane tickets… to Tokyo,” Gene speaks.

“Hmph! How rude!” she snaps, her accent heavier. “You should’ve told me that in the first place!” Instead of putting back on her fur coat, she grabs it off the ground and stomps off.

Gene and Jim pause.

“Well, that was weird,” says Gene. Jim growls.

“Where the hell in our vicinity,” he gestures at both Gene and himself, “do we have a sign saying we’re auditioning for a goddamn play?!”

So many things needed, so little money. Melfina initially blames Miss Trembly for not preparing her for these things. Then she realizes that she was supposed to work at a fish factory, not go to Tokyo.

Melfina decides to walk downtown instead of spending another ten dollars, trying to ignore her aching arms as she carries her suitcase with her cold hands, as well as her cold and aching feet.

She’s also hungry. She stares at the windows of restaurants, diners, and a McDonald’s and counts the money she has left each time.

Finally she sees a church, blinking at a sign that says, “Women’s shelter,” and hopes to fill her stomach for free.

Soon enough, she’s met with kind smiles from workers and a pastor.

Melfina has to attend church service in order to eat, shower, and stay the night, but she doesn’t mind. She’s at least sheltered from the winter that may never break. Last winter, for example, lasted until May.

Finding herself immersed in the pastor’s sermon, she thinks back to the youth home, which was also religious-based, where she was taught to love and obey God, and to pray for his love. She used to pray every night for him to find her family, whoever they are.

After the service ends, it’s time to eat. It’s beef stroganoff, and she gobbles it down with vigor.

“This guy bet plane tickets at Clyde’s and lost,” comes a raspy voice belonging to a middle-aged woman sitting next to her.

“Why would he do something like that?” asks a second woman.

“Hell if I know. I think he’s just stupid.”

“Where were the tickets for?”

“Tokyo.”

“Tokyo?! The hell he got tickets to Tokyo for?!”

“Hell if I know.”

“Excuse me,” Melfina speaks meekly. The women pulling their heads back at her aren't helping with the nervousness that overcomes her. “Someone’s got plane tickets to Tokyo?” The women look at each other before staring back at Melfina. 

“Yeah, his name is Gene Starwind,” the first woman replies as the second woman stands up and walks elsewhere. “He cheated on a poker game and stole those tickets from someone I know.”

Melfina frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, that guy was stupid enough to let his friend bet on them. My name’s Lisanne, by the way.” Lisanne extends her hand to Melfina, and Melfina reluctantly shakes it.

“My name is Melfina. Where can I meet this Gene?”

“You know, when I met him a few weeks ago, the drunken idiot mentioned staying at the Winter Palace . Put two and two together and realized he was talking about that old mansion.” She pauses and lets out hacking coughs, while Melfina backs away. “He ain’t supposed to be staying there but whatever...”

“A mansion…” Melfina’s apprehensive about this Gene guy. He cheats on poker and drinks? But she’s desperate. She’s gone too far to back out now.

“Old mansion, used to belong to some past governor, or something.” She leans towards Melfina. “You didn’t hear all this from me, girl.” She pauses. “Also, hide your necklace.”

It takes Melfina a moment, but once she understood the woman, she nods and tucks her necklace under her shirt. “Where is this mansion?”

“Somewhere in the hills maybe.”

“Thank you so much.”“Yeah, you got a cigarette on ya?”

Melfina shakes her head no.

Chapter Text

Dreams.

Some dreams are vivid. Others are vague. Some you can remember. Some you can’t. Such is Melfina’s dilemma. The vivid dreams she had were mostly from the time she was eight onwards. But some would be vague. The years of dreams she sang about on her journey to Anchorage were the ones she can never remember afterwards. It’s made her anxious.

Last night, as she slept next to the women and children in the shelter, she dreamt about being in front of a fireplace. The youth home never had a fireplace, so why would she dream about one? This shelter has a fireplace, but not like the one she dreamed about.

Maybe it’s a memory from more than eight years ago, like all the other vague dreams.

Waving goodbye to everyone at the church, Melfina sets out to find this “Winter Palace,” and Gene Starwind.

Hoping she has enough for this trip, she calls out a cab, and one stops by her.

After she hops on, the cab driver asks, “Where are we headed?”

“To the Winter Palace.” The driver turns around to get a good look at Melfina, who swallows hard at the look. 

“They closed the road, so I can only take you as far as the trail.”

“Okay.”

He then turns around and speeds down the road. The radio plays a song about grease being the word, but she pays no mind to it as the cab heads farther from the city and into the woods again.

After what seems like an endless drive, seeing nothing but snow and trees, deer, moose and a wolf, the cab finally arrives at the beginning of the trail. The trail looks safe, but Melfina is worried about that wolf she saw a few minutes ago.

“Total comes to twelve dollars and twenty-eight cents,” the driver says. “You just go up the hill and you won’t miss it.” Melfina nods then sadly looks at her wallet before handing out thirteen dollars. After a pause, she hands two more dollars, hoping that will be enough for a tip. 

And that’s it; she’s officially out of money.

“Thank you, sir,” she whispers before getting out and shutting the door, relieved that this driver said nothing about the tip. 

The cab drives away until it’s out of view.

She glances at the trail. It looks pretty steep, but she has to do this. She’s gone too far to back out now.

Taking a deep breath and holding her suitcase with the other hand, she takes her first step.

The trail finally ends where the forest meets the prairie. There, right before her very eyes, is the Winter Palace, enclosed by a gate. Melfina’s cold and covered with snow. Despite that and the fact that her arms and feet ache, she can hardly contain her excitement as she runs over to the road, ignoring the frigid winds and snowflakes hitting her face and eyes.

When she reaches the gate, she notices a big lock and chains over it with a sign that says, “Property of Anchorage Bank.”

That means she can’t just walk in. But she has to. If Gene Starwind is staying in this place (illegally, she assumes), he’s found a way in, and she has to find that way in.

She glances at a tree right in front of the brick wall and grins as she runs to it. The trunk is low enough for someone to climb on, so she takes a step back and throws her suitcase over the wall. She then begins climbing the tree, over a large branch, struggling to hold her grip due to the snow on the branch. After reaching the top of the wall, she looks down to see her suitcase on the ground before making a jump onto the snow drift.

The whole yard is covered by a huge blanket of snow. There are some trees, but it mostly looks like the yard hasn’t been tended to for years. No one has shoveled the snow, so she doesn’t know if there are walkways. 

All is quiet except for the wind and the crunch crunch crunch of her boots stepping into the snow.

And children laughing and a female voice telling them to come inside.

Then a wolf howling.

Melfina gasps and runs closer to the building. The laughing children and the woman may have been in her mind but that howl was definitely real .

The building’s large. Very large.

No doubt about it; This is a mansion. 

It’s so puzzling; how can someone build something like this on this hilly and mountainous land? Who did the owner intend to show this off to, and who would even come here? Maybe this was a summer home because there are two large and empty fountains surrounded by what might have been a garden, but something tells Melfina that this isn’t the case. Most of the windows are boarded up. One of the large double doors is boarded up as well. She tugs on the door that isn’t boarded up, surprised that it isn’t locked.

She takes one last look at the yard.

Snowmen used to be on the yard.

Another wolf’s howl causes Melfina to gasp, and she makes her way inside.

It’s so dark. 

Light from outside reveals a large main hall, barren, except for a small table by the doors with a flashlight sitting on it.

How convenient. 

Turning on the flashlight, Melfina can see the large staircase greeting her with two higher flights of stairs on either side. There are two archways under the flights of stairs, and the walls are mahogany panels. The marble floor is coated with dust and debris. 

Melfina is between two grand fireplaces.

“Hello?” she calls out, her voice reverberating in the large room. “Is anyone here?”

Silence answers back. She begins to explore and study the walls.

The walls are barren, save for a couple of small portraits on the overmantels.

There’s something about this place, but Melfina can’t figure it out. Maybe she can’t figure it out because her left arm aching from carrying her suitcase distracts her, so she walks over to the fireplace to her left and sets the suitcase in front of it.

There is charred wood inside the fireplace, and she can smell it.

Someone definitely is here.

There’s a matchbook on the mantel. To warm herself, Melfina sets the flashlight down on the mantel, sparks a flame with one of the matches and throws it onto the wood. Closing her eyes, she smiles and sighs with relief as fire forms and warmth caresses her cold face. She glances at a mirror on the mantel shelf, frowning upon realizing that it’s been coated with dust.

A sudden image flashes in her mind, a reflection of the mirror, of a little girl playing with a man. Her father?

Melfina shakes that thought away. 

No longer cold, she takes off her gloves, hat, coat and scarf and sets them all beside her suitcase before looking at the fireplace again. She studies the intricate designs on the apron of this fireplace.

She gasps and her heart palpitates.

“This is the fireplace I dreamed about!” she whispers.

Eyes widened, Melfina looks into the dust-caked mirror again. Then she looked around the main hall and then at the main doors. The children playing outside, the snowmen, the little girl playing with her father…

She feels dizzy and grabs onto the mantel, her belly churning.