Chapter Text
She finds him first. Or rather, he finds her. The child, no more than three, wanders into the villa two days after the destruction of Rome, covered in soot and blood. His head is badly injured; he doesn’t even remember his own name. She cleans him up and gets some food and water into him, names him Grizzop. Most people end up calling him Riz, though. It’s easier to pronounce. He isn’t much like his namesake, anyway. Where Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam was loud and practical and quick-tempered, Riz is soft-spoken and patient, but Sasha loves him just as much.