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Posted here because it got too damn long.
It was the only time Eve heard Villanelle speaking Russian.
Villanelle liked to show off. A lot. And especially to Eve. At some other point in her life, Eve might have felt it was arrogant to think so, but after the third time of Villanelle 'coincidentally' choosing to workout in minimal clothing in the same room as Eve had picked to do her research, it really wasn't too much of a stretch.
They didn't even have sex those times, Villanelle just liked seeing Eve react to her mastery of whatever skill she chose to showcase.
So it came as no surprise that her talent for languages would also be used for such ends. At current count, Eve had seen Villanelle speak, with complete mastery, seven languages. Not a trace of a different accent, if she didn't want to have one.
What had surprised Eve, very much so, was Villanelle's habit of sleep-talking. She didn't speak loudly, barely a murmur, and Eve only knew thanks to a bout of insomnia after they had found more information on the Twelve, and how far their reach extended.
It had made a smile rise to Eve's tired eyes, warmth spreading in her chest as Villanelle grumbled about killing someone over spilled ice cream. In the same sentence, she had switched to French, something about nosy old ladies, and then to Italian that Eve had no hope to follow. The low tone of her voice was calming, and Eve fell asleep to what sounded like very irritated German spoken by a Russian mobster.
The desire to tease Villanelle about it had been immense, but something held Eve back. This was a secret only Eve knew, she had no doubt. Villanelle would have commented something if she had been aware of the habit.
It was nice, knowing something about another person that not even they knew. Villanelle had known Eve's very soul from their first meeting, so it was only fair Eve had a little piece of the other woman all to herself.
And it didn't happen every night, Eve was pretty sure. When it did, Eve was witness to the strangest arguments and death-threats, spoken in a variety of languages.
But Russian, Russian only appeared when there was an emptiness to Villanelle's murmured words. It didn't sound like an argument, or a fight, or the whimsical madness of a dream. There was only that emptiness, and Villanelle was always a little distant in the next morning.
As the months passed, Eve decided that something had to be done. Villanelle talked little about her life in Russia, and sparingly so, but Eve got the gist of it. Not many good memories to revisit there, not even in dreams.
That was how Eve found herself murmuring back to Villanelle when her sleep-talk turned to Russian.
English did nothing. French seemed to distract the assassin a bit, but lost its effect quickly. Korean lasted longer, and Eve made sure to teach a waking Villanelle some words too, but after a couple of times, there was no discernible response.
And that was the current extent of Eve's knowledge of tongues. Back to square one.
An idea struck Eve a few days later, as they cuddled together in post-coital haze, her head resting on Villanelle's shoulder as the other woman ran a hand through Eve’s wild mane of hair, and called Eve 'baby' in every one of those seven languages.
That night, they both slept soundly. In the coming weeks, Eve researched, and paid attention.
There was never a 'solntse', a 'zaya', or 'lapachka' among Villanelle's ramblings in her mother tongue. Only sounds that Eve was pretty sure were orders and harsh judgements.
So Eve said the words. They were strange, and didn't quite fit in her mouth, and she could not form a coherent sentence with any of them to save her own life. Yet, it seemed to work.
Villanelle calmed almost immediately after Eve spoke, a deep sigh signaling her falling back to deep slumber. It worked every night those Russian memories rose to torment Villanelle in her sleep, and Eve was very glad for it. Her... her radnaya didn't wake with that haunted look to her eyes anymore, and that was a victory in Eve's book.
Even so, Eve almost let her coffee mug fall to the floor when, one morning, Villanelle walked towards Eve sitting on their kitchen table, kissed the top of her head, and said, "Good morning, pupsik."
(This ended up gigantic, I'm sorry.
My knowledge of russian endearments comes from google, i'm still in the 'learning the alphabet' stage with that one, but from what I found: Solntse - the sun, common term of endearment for loved ones. Zaya - little rabbit, same as before but more common with children. Lapachka - little paw, same as before. Radnaya - Used for one's partner or close family, derived from the word for family, comparable to soulmate in meaning. Pupsik - Baby. This is what Villanelle calls Eve in the books, and I would kill to see it happen in the series as well.)
It was the only time Eve heard Villanelle speaking Russian.
Villanelle liked to show off. A lot. And especially to Eve. At some other point in her life, Eve might have felt it was arrogant to think so, but after the third time of Villanelle 'coincidentally' choosing to workout in minimal clothing in the same room as Eve had picked to do her research, it really wasn't too much of a stretch.
They didn't even have sex those times, Villanelle just liked seeing Eve react to her mastery of whatever skill she chose to showcase.
So it came as no surprise that her talent for languages would also be used for such ends. At current count, Eve had seen Villanelle speak, with complete mastery, seven languages. Not a trace of a different accent, if she didn't want to have one.
What had surprised Eve, very much so, was Villanelle's habit of sleep-talking. She didn't speak loudly, barely a murmur, and Eve only knew thanks to a bout of insomnia after they had found more information on the Twelve, and how far their reach extended.
It had made a smile rise to Eve's tired eyes, warmth spreading in her chest as Villanelle grumbled about killing someone over spilled ice cream. In the same sentence, she had switched to French, something about nosy old ladies, and then to Italian that Eve had no hope to follow. The low tone of her voice was calming, and Eve fell asleep to what sounded like very irritated German spoken by a Russian mobster.
The desire to tease Villanelle about it had been immense, but something held Eve back. This was a secret only Eve knew, she had no doubt. Villanelle would have commented something if she had been aware of the habit.
It was nice, knowing something about another person that not even they knew. Villanelle had known Eve's very soul from their first meeting, so it was only fair Eve had a little piece of the other woman all to herself.
And it didn't happen every night, Eve was pretty sure. When it did, Eve was witness to the strangest arguments and death-threats, spoken in a variety of languages.
But Russian, Russian only appeared when there was an emptiness to Villanelle's murmured words. It didn't sound like an argument, or a fight, or the whimsical madness of a dream. There was only that emptiness, and Villanelle was always a little distant in the next morning.
As the months passed, Eve decided that something had to be done. Villanelle talked little about her life in Russia, and sparingly so, but Eve got the gist of it. Not many good memories to revisit there, not even in dreams.
That was how Eve found herself murmuring back to Villanelle when her sleep-talk turned to Russian.
English did nothing. French seemed to distract the assassin a bit, but lost its effect quickly. Korean lasted longer, and Eve made sure to teach a waking Villanelle some words too, but after a couple of times, there was no discernible response.
And that was the current extent of Eve's knowledge of tongues. Back to square one.
An idea struck Eve a few days later, as they cuddled together in post-coital haze, her head resting on Villanelle's shoulder as the other woman ran a hand through Eve’s wild mane of hair, and called Eve 'baby' in every one of those seven languages.
That night, they both slept soundly. In the coming weeks, Eve researched, and paid attention.
There was never a 'solntse', a 'zaya', or 'lapachka' among Villanelle's ramblings in her mother tongue. Only sounds that Eve was pretty sure were orders and harsh judgements.
So Eve said the words. They were strange, and didn't quite fit in her mouth, and she could not form a coherent sentence with any of them to save her own life. Yet, it seemed to work.
Villanelle calmed almost immediately after Eve spoke, a deep sigh signaling her falling back to deep slumber. It worked every night those Russian memories rose to torment Villanelle in her sleep, and Eve was very glad for it. Her... her radnaya didn't wake with that haunted look to her eyes anymore, and that was a victory in Eve's book.
Even so, Eve almost let her coffee mug fall to the floor when, one morning, Villanelle walked towards Eve sitting on their kitchen table, kissed the top of her head, and said, "Good morning, pupsik."
(This ended up gigantic, I'm sorry.
My knowledge of russian endearments comes from google, i'm still in the 'learning the alphabet' stage with that one, but from what I found: Solntse - the sun, common term of endearment for loved ones. Zaya - little rabbit, same as before but more common with children. Lapachka - little paw, same as before. Radnaya - Used for one's partner or close family, derived from the word for family, comparable to soulmate in meaning. Pupsik - Baby. This is what Villanelle calls Eve in the books, and I would kill to see it happen in the series as well.)
