Here is the final part of the four part series.

Releasing it today because it's Father's Day here in Australia.

I would like to dedicate this piece to my uncle who passed away this week – may you watch over us from heaven while you kick back and enjoy time with those already there xoxoxo

PART IV = DIMITRI

I don't know why I'm nervous.

My palms are sweaty, my heart is beating like I've been running and my mouth is drier than the Nevada desert.

As always, Roza senses my discomfort and lends me her strength. Her hand grabs mine and squeezes it, communicating so much in that simple gesture. I try to smile but I think I fail because she lightly giggles and shakes her head in sympathy.

I go to plan B – I snap on my Guardian mask and face forward again. This is not the time to become a slave to my emotions. I should be the one who the family leans on, not the other way round.

But I can't help it as I watch our daughter Christina, my little Krestya, walk in to her first day of kindergarten. Regardless of my reservations, she has embarked on the journey to become what her parents are – a Guardian.

Duty

Honour

Sacrifice

They come first

These are the four cornerstones upon which the very foundation of Guardian education – theory and combat – is built.

We are taught it is our duty to protect the Moroi.

We are taught being a Guardian is an honourable position.

We are taught that sacrifice is a way of life if you want to be a good Guardian and that you have to be willing to sacrifice everything – including your own life.

And of course, the most important mantra of all – They, the Moroi, come first.

When I was young and saw my father, when he visited us every few months, I could see why it was our responsibility to protect the Moroi. Even though he was tall and had more muscle than your average male Moroi, he seemed more 'fragile' compared to us. His dependency on getting blood regularly and inability to handle sunlight only further confirmed my assessment.

Up until Vika turned 3, our father was actually a decent guy. Unlike the other Moroi men who came and had one-night stands in Baia, he would visit us often and treat us almost like family. Whenever he came he would bring gifts and made sure he spent time with everyone. Babushka never liked him – maybe she knew what was to come or maybe she just didn't like him in general – either way she would leave a day before he arrived and wouldn't return until he left, which is why when things went bad mama had to deal with our father by herself.

For a long time I didn't know what triggered the change in his behaviour, but Adrian's theory – when we finally discussed our family – was that when the Ivashkov Council seat became available, after his great Uncle Nikolai passed away, my father assumed he would be chosen since he was the eldest of that generation. But instead the 'honour' went to Nathan, Adrian's father. Adrian thinks it was the final 'nail in the coffin' for my father/his uncle after having endured years of direct and indirect jests about his nomadic lifestyle and preference in women. Once Nathan was given 'command' of the family he disowned his big brother, making him homeless and penniless.

We concluded that this led my father to take up drinking which unfortunately unleased the 'demon'. Having no one he could turn to in the Ivashkov clan – even Tatianna had pulled back from helping him – he moved in with us, the next closest thing he had to a family. Since he couldn't lash out at his 'Moroi' family he decided he would vent his frustrations on his 'Dhampir' one. And that's how abuse and domestic violence came into our lives.

It started off small – a degrading comment here, a loud yell there. The first person he raised his hand on was Karo, not mama, because she had been in a mood and refused to turn the volume on the TV down which didn't help our father's pounding hangover headache. After that incident, she tried to avoid him as much as possible by staying at the academy while he lived with us. The more he drank the worse he got. I shudder to think what he did to mama behind closed doors but in front of us he would belittle her and constantly try and pick fights. My mama, the sweet woman she is, would try and pacify him, agreeing to anything no matter how stupid it was just to shut him up or calm him down.

For 2 years the man I had once called 'father' terrorised our family, until finally I had gained enough strength – both physical and mental – to kick him out. He had never imagined his own son, a Dhampir training to become a Guardian, would be the one to kick his ass and throw him out. He probably thought the whole 'they come first' would prevent me from stepping up and calling him on his behaviour, because after all he was a Moroi and a Royal one at that. But I no longer saw him as a 'Royal Moroi' and definitely didn't think of him in a 'fatherly' capacity – no, to me he was simply a nightmare.

You would think experiencing such a facet of 'fatherhood' would scar me for life but it only made me want a family of my own even more. Thanks to the way mama and babushka raised me I was certain I could do a better job at being a papa than my father ever did – even in his pre-drinking days. But the reality of that happening was slim – I was to be a Guardian and it would be expected of me to lay my life on the line and put the Moroi before all else, including a family. And anyway, it was almost rare for a male Guardian to even have the opportunity to father children since it would have to be with a Moroi woman and they aren't as 'accommodating' about having kids with a Dhampir as Moroi men – maybe it was because they would actually have to be involved by carrying the child for 9 months and then raise it, even if it was through nannies.

So when I met Tasha through Ivan and she seemed different to other Royal Moroi, I dared to dream. I wasn't in love with her per say but she was nice & kind and seemed the best & only option I had in achieving my dream of having a family.

And then Ivan was killed.

My life fell off its axis and I blamed myself for his death – not only because I hadn't been there to protect him but because I had been planning another life on the side unbeknownst to him. In my mind, I somehow attributed his death as a form of punishment for thinking I could have a life of my own, for dreaming to be a papa.

When I finally emerged from my soul-crushing grief I was a changed man.

Duty…Honour…Sacrifice…They come first…

I lived and breathed these words – they were the first words I uttered every time I awoke and the last words I thought before I went to bed. I had finally accepted them as a way of life and built a wall around myself, all the while pushing my 'childish dream' of wanting my own family into a tiny corner of my soul.

And then I met Roza.

She was a walking, talking enigma – a reckless, undisciplined girl who openly rebelled against authority, and yet was one of the most passionate, dedicated Guardians I had ever met. Even though I was supposed to be teaching and mentoring her, she in her own way, taught and mentored me. She slowly chipped away and broke down the walls I had erected, showing me that there was more to life than just being a mindless servant and soldier. And I again I dared to dream.

I hate to admit that in a small moment of weakness I questioned my logic for falling for another Dhampir – there was no way we could have a family together, nature said so. And in that small moment I re-considered the offer from Tasha, not only because I was certain that was the only way I could have a family, but my strong moral compass was pulling me towards what it felt was the 'sensible' choice in a life partner.

But having finally experienced love, for the first time, my heart wanted to be selfish for once and thankfully knocked some much needed sense into me. It made me realise how lucky I was to have found true love because so many go through life wishing they could have the love I had found and here I was ready to give it all up for a chance to be a father with a woman I saw no more than a good friend.

My personal priorities shifted – I no longer dreamt I was playing with a group of faceless children, who I knew were mine. No, in this future, I saw Roza and OUR children and I realised that if I were to have children it would be with her or none at all. And I don't know why, but a small part of me dared to hope it could happen – after all Roza was special and had done/experienced so many things that went against nature.

And then I became a Strigoi.

Honestly, it felt like every time life was perfect the universe said 'fuck you!' The irony is that I was finally able to be a 'papa' after I became one of the undead. The only person I ever confided this tale to was Roza – when I was able to recall those 'dark days' without having a panic attack or falling into deep depression. I told her about my Strigoi 'daughter'.

After I had been awakened in the caves, I was consumed by bloodlust which was expected of 'newborns' and was supposed to last a month while the body undergoes the major changes to accept the Strigoi physiology. During that month, Nathan and the 'gang' had left me to fend for myself, knowing my bloodlust made me a liability. Plus its part of the whole 'natural selection' process – if you can't conquer the bloodlust and/or get sloppy enough to be killed than you weren't 'strong' enough to be a Strigoi and definitely not worthy to join a 'nest'.

One day the bloodlust had enraptured me and I had come across a human family vacationing in a cabin. It felt like an all-you-can-eat buffet and I definitely took advantage of what was on offer. I had consumed the entire family and was about to leave when I heard a sniffling noise from the pantry. Turns out the youngest member, a 6 years old girl, had been playing hide and seek with her siblings when I had 'dropped in' for dinner. She had heard the screams and had remained hidden until her emotions had given her away. I was still getting used to my heightened senses which was probably why I hadn't picked up on her sole heartbeat, but I had her now.

For once I was too full so didn't feel like feeding from her and I knew I couldn't just leave her here nor drop her off at the nearest town. No, unfortunately the only option was to end her life – it was easier this way and less hassle for me. I kept it quick and just snapped her delicate neck with one flick of the wrist. But as I took in her features, I realised they reminded me of Roza – waist-long wavy brown her, dark brown eyes and skin the colour of almond. She almost looked like how I'd imagined our kids would look like. I blame my new life mantra – 'to do whatever the hell I want' – and a lingering need to have my 'own family' for the decision I made next because looking back at it now it was definitely one of my worst ones.

I decided to awaken her.

There was a reason Strigoi didn't turn children and I learnt my lesson the hard way. I was suddenly dealing with not only the bloodlust but tantrums and attitude. Her name was Alexandra and she was a sadistic little thing and I couldn't have been prouder – at the time. Having her for company made my journey to Russia both entertaining and exasperating, but for the first time I felt like a papa and she was my little Sasha. Unfortunately, Galina didn't feel the same way and one day 'took care of the problem' while I was out being her 'errand boy'. I think it was that very same day I decided Galina had to go – not only so I could take over her empire but because she thought she could take my Sasha away from me. As a Strigoi I didn't feel emotions like sadness or guilt, but I was furious that someone under my 'command' was destroyed without my approval and I harboured that rage while I planned my revenge.

Naturally, when I was finally restored, a huge piece of my guilt and self-loathing was centred around Sasha – How could I have corrupted such a pure and innocent soul? How could I have turned a sweet 6 year old girl into a blood thirsty monster? Roza helped me work through the guilt till it was only a small scar on my soul. Another thing she suggested, which helped me immensely, was creating a memorial for my 'Strigoi daughter' – reasoning that in some strange way she was my first child and I shouldn't forget her. And so I planted a small lavender bush in our backyard to remember her by because lavender was her favourite scent and whenever my mind spiralled into darkness, I would go and sit by her 'memorial' and find a way to regain my peace.

And then Declan came into our lives.

When we were finally told the truth about Declan's parentage I was beyond ecstatic! But there were other factors to consider – like us getting married as I didn't want kids out of wedlock. There was also the uncertainty on how Roza felt about having kids, a conversation we didn't feel the need to have since we thought we couldn't conceive.

But now that it was a possibility, we started talking more and more about it. And I could see her natural reluctance – not because she didn't like kids, she adored and fawned over Paul, Zoya and Katya – but because she was worried, as always, in her own capabilities to perform the role of a mother.

If I thought I had to work hard to get engaged and married, it took triple the effort to convince Roza to start a family, with constant reassurances that she would make a wonderful mama and that she could still find ways to protect Lissa and keep being a Guardian.

I still remember the day she told me we were pregnant – I think I had stopped breathing for a good 2 mins! But then I had been overwhelmed with so much love and happiness that I was sure if Adrian had seen my aura he would have complained about becoming blind!

And then we had the miscarriage.

Again I wondered if this was the universe punishing us for trying to seek out happiness beyond what was expected for a Guardian or maybe we were being punished for the heinous crime I had committed when I turned Sasha into a Strigoi.

It's difficult dealing with a tragedy while trying to continue with your life, and I imagined the grief and suffering a mother experiences is exponentially worse than what a father would – after all she was the one carrying the child and in that 'incubation' period the bond between a child and its mother is deep.

I felt like an outsider watching the events unfold and it killed me that I couldn't do anything to ease the pain and guilt Roza was feeling. I could see her draw into herself and taking the blame when it was no one's fault. She didn't feel like my Roza any more – instead becoming a cold, hard-shelled version of herself.

She thought I wasn't aware that she had secretly gone back on the pill, but I found her meds one day when I was looking for something in the bathroom. Weirdly seeing her going back on contraception and giving up on us trying again broke my heart more than the miscarriage. Not knowing how to get through the wall she had erected around herself, I turned to the only other woman in my life who understood me just as well as Roza – I called mama.

A day later she turned up, locked herself and Roza in our guest bedroom for the whole day and commanded I leave them be until they were ready to emerge. I think finding out that she wasn't the only one to have experienced a miscarriage helped Roza a lot and she finally came back to me, becoming once more my Roza.

I'd like to think God finally took pity on us – after all the trials and suffering we had endured – and granted us a child.

I still remember the day my little Krestya was born. Roza had pushed me off the bed as the first of her contractions hit her. I remember fumbling around, trying to grab the hospital bag and clothes for us to wear for the hospital, all the while trying to calm Roza (and myself) and keeping track of the contractions. We had just stepped out of the house when her water broke which forced her contractions to come on faster. Even after all that it was a long labour, filled with violence and cursing the likes of which the nurses and our doc had never seen, but the end result had been worth it.

As I held Christina in my arms, she seemed so small and fragile but oh so perfect. Just like with her mama, I couldn't help the promise that slipped out right there and then – that my little Krestya would always be my priority, that she would always come first.

It wasn't long before we were blessed with our son Ivan, our handsome Vanya. Roza seemed to cope better with this pregnancy and even the labour was smoother – further confirming my theory that Ivan was definitely his mama's boy.

A tug on my pant leg brings me be back to the present and as I pick up Vanya and hug Roza, I realise that I still live by those four cornerstones that dictate a Guardian's life.

The duty I have to my kids to ensure they are loved and protected – always.

The honour I feel being their papa – I can't imagine two more perfect children!

But most importantly, how I wouldn't think twice to sacrifice myself for them because now and forever more…

They come first.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I hope you all enjoyed this mini-series – it was interesting writing it!
Confess to getting a bit teary at the end there…

I know its technically 4th Sept now in Aus (was busy today with Father's day festivities and after putting the kids to bed, had to contend with 'tag teaming' of unsettled/crying kiddies).
I've editing the story but if there are any glaring mistakes, let me know.

It's always difficult to write from a 'male' perspective when the writer is female so I hope I did the characters justice.

Small note on my other pieces:

Restaurant Wars – I have started writing the next chapter but am finding it challenging because it's an important one and very long so please be patient

VA compilations – I will be contributing to the next two compilations so keep a look out for those (this also means I will be dividing my time between these and RW)

And in terms of my personal life…I'm a month away from 'officially' re-starting work so goodbye mat leave …this means I will have significantly less time to write so again, please be patient if my updates take longer to happen…

I will also be dedicating one day a week starting in Sept to 'training' (for work) in preparation to re-joining the workforce so my limited time will begin sooner than later

But know that I love writing fanfiction and am not going to stop any time soon – just may take longer to get stuff out.

And I have A LOT of other ideas in the 'pipeline' for VA fanfic so don't think I will disappear once I'm done with the compilations and RW :P