Hello again everyone! I'm very excited about this story. I've been absolutely fascinated by the real Romanovs since early high school, and Anastasia has been a favorite movie since pretty much before I can remember. I drew a lot of inspiration for the concept from LucyCrewe11's story White Fabergé Lilies, which I absolutely recommend you go read because it really is a fantastic story. I'm trying to keep this as historically accurate as possible, though I will take some historical and artistic freedoms when necessary. I hope you enjoy it!


1908

There was a certain excitement in disobeying your parents, Anastasia decided. It was a kind of exhilarating thrill you couldn't get from doing anything else.

Oh, she knew she would be grounded for months, years even, if her parents knew she had snuck out of the palace. That just made it more exciting for her. Besides, it's not like anyone would be missing her. They were all preparing for the state dinner tonight, and she'd been told to stay out of the way. And what better way to do that than by leaving the palace altogether? It was so wonderful to roam the streets of St. Petersburg by herself. She never got to do what she wanted on the rare occasion they went out, and now she could. She'd even taken special care to dress in her most plain clothes so as not to draw attention to herself, which she thought was very clever of her if she did say so herself.

The streets were bustling with so much activity that she could hardly focus. There was so much to see! She'd have to sneak out again at the next chance, because there was no way she'd be able to see everything today. Anastasia gaped at the jewels in one shop's window. She wished Papa and Mama would allow her a larger allowance. Looking around she simply wanted to buy everything, but didn't have even enough money on her for a pair of shoes. It was a shame really. They thought a seven year old had no need for a lot of money. Maybe if she told her parents she needed money for a present for Maria, or maybe Alexei? But that thought was dismissed quickly, because then she'd have to come back with something for them, and that defeated the purpose. Plus, they'd never let her go on her own like this. No, she would just have to save her money.

Anastasia paused to pet one of the horses hooked to a carriage for a few minutes before she was chased away by the driver. Giggling to herself she ran down the road and around the corner. She leaned against the railing on a small bridge above a river, dangling her arms over and watching the water flow. Yes, she'd definitely have to sneak out again soon.

A small tugging sensation caught her attention and she spun quicker than she ever had before. Letting out a gasp, she stumbled backwards into the railing. A boy who looked to be a few years older than she was stood directly behind her, his hand where her pocket had just been.

"What do you think you're doing?" she cried, swatting his hand away. The boy's hand opened by mistake and a few coins dropped to the ground. Fury rose up inside her seeing that, and she quickly stooped to pick the coins up.

"I'm sorry," the boy stammered. "You weren't supposed to catch me."

"That's what you're sorry about?" she said, affronted. "You're sorry you got caught? What about being sorry you stole from me? Do you even know who I am?"

The boy's face turned a deep shade of scarlet. "Uh, no. Sorry. Should I?"

Well now she was really offended. Anastasia drew herself up to her full height, which even she had to admit was a bit pathetic when she saw she only came up to his chin. "For your information, I am the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov, and I can have you arrested for stealing from me!"

To her ever-increasing astonishment, the boy did not immediately bow or apologize. Instead he looked at her blankly, looking rather stupid she thought. Narrowing her eyes at him, she crossed her arms.

"You have terrible manners," she announced, her arms still folded across her chest. "Didn't you hear me? Are you deaf as well?" She reached up toward his ears as if to check if they were blocked, but the boy pushed her hand away.

"I can hear you just fine," he snapped back. "But my papa says I shouldn't have to bow to you."

"Well your papa sounds like an idiot. You have to bow to me. It's just what people do."

"Don't call him an idiot!" Anastasia was taken aback when the boy stepped toward her, his hands clenched into tight fists. "My papa is a good man. He just thinks that no one is born better than anyone else. He says that we all make ourselves better than our circumstances."

Anastasia dodged around the boy so she was no longer cornered against the bridge. "Well that's dumb," she said. "My papa says me and my family were chosen by God to be in charge and lead the country. And my papa is the Tsar, so what he says is the law." She nodded impressively, staring at the boy as if daring him to challenge her. When he didn't, she smirked to herself. She turned on her heel to leave, and was stunned when the boy grabbed her by her upper arm.

"Where are you going?" he asked, quickly letting go when she glared at him again.

"I'm going home," she said stiffly. "If this is how I'm going to be treated out here, then I want to go home."

"You live in the palace, right?"

"Of course, I live in the palace," she said. "Where did you think I lived? Under this bridge?"

"No, your Highness," the boy said, flushing again. "But the palace is that way." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing in the opposite direction she had been heading. Anastasia visibly deflated. How pathetic she felt now; she wouldn't have been able to find her own way home.

"Thanks," she said, though her tone was biting. "What's your name anyway?"

"I'm Dmitry," the boy said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I can walk with you if you'd like. In case you run into anymore pickpockets." He tried to smile at her, but the look on her face plainly said she didn't appreciate the joke.

"Fine," she said. "But if you try anything, I'll make sure my papa arrests you himself."


Despite nearly being caught sneaking back into the palace last time, Anastasia couldn't help herself. The next chance she got to leave the palace on her own came a few weeks down the line, when some distant cousins were coming to visit. Mama, Papa, Olga and Tatiana would all be entertaining them, and Maria and Alexei were visiting Nana in Paris. Originally Anastasia was meant to have gone to Paris with them, but she'd misbehaved last week during a meeting and her punishment was that she was no longer permitted to go. At the time, crawling under the table and acting like a dog had seemed funny- especially to Maria, who couldn't stop giggling about it even hours after Anastasia was escorted from the room. It really wasn't fair.

But now it seemed like something good might come out of it. It was still all too easy to slip away from the palace, once again dressed in what she called her peasant clothes. She grinned to herself as she walked quickly down the street. She'd brought more money with her this time, though she still wasn't hopeful of finding anything she could afford. Still, it made her feel important, and that's what mattered to her.

Her plans changed, though, when she stumbled upon the horse drawn carriages again. She was no stranger to the carriages, having been exposed to them all her life. But the palace's horses all looked well taken care of and better fed than these ones. They all looked rather depressed and tired, and it only took her one second to redirect her course.

In a matter of minutes, she had spent all the money she'd brought with her on some apples, which she shoved in her bag with a quick thanks to the clerk. Making her way back to the horses, she took extra care to make sure their drivers weren't looking before giving them each an apple and patting them a few times. Quite a few perked up a lot when she held the treat out to them, and a few even tried to nibble on her hair. She was halfway down the street when a voice made her jump.

"You! Are you crazy?" Anastasia nearly jumped out of her skin and prepared to look as innocent as possible.

"Oh, it's you," she breathed, once she'd turned to face the voice. It was the boy from the bridge- Daniil? Dmitry?

"What are you doing out here again?" he said, grabbing her shoulder and steering her away from the horses.

"Well I needed a break from my family," she sniffed. "It's so boring at home without Maria and Alexei, and my parents are punishing me unfairly."

"Yeah, it sounds horrible," Dmitry huffed, glancing over his shoulder. Following his gaze, Anastasia spotted three older boys who were quite plainly waiting for Dmitry to return. Perhaps his friends? They looked too old to be his friends though. Maybe one was his brother, and the other two were his brother's friends. Yeah, that must be it.

"What are you guys doing?" She said eagerly. "Can I join you?"

Dmitry hesitated, half glancing over his shoulder again. "Uh, maybe that's not a good idea. Maksim barely trusts me as it is, and I don't think he'd like you very much."

"Well why not?" Anastasia demanded. "I'm charming!"

"You're something," Dmitry laughed. "But Maksim's different. Things are different here on the streets. Plus, you'd stick out too much."

"Well I think I should ask him," she said. "Besides, he has to do what I say." Anastasia skirted around Dmitry, quick as a flash.

"No!" he exclaimed, grabbing her by the back of her dress. "Whatever you do, don't go announcing who you are out here. Especially in this part of town."

"Why?"

"Just trust me," he said, slowly letting go of her dress. "The people around here aren't likely to bow unquestioningly to you if they knew who you were."

"Well that's silly," she insisted, but made no move toward the older boys again. Dmitry's stomach suddenly growled loudly, and the boy turned bright red as he tried to muffle the sound.

"You're hungry?" she asked, her annoyance melting away in an instant. Dmitry shook his head.

"I've had worse," he insisted, though his stomach growled again. Without saying another word, Anastasia plunged her hand into her bag and pulled out the last two apples she had.

"Here," she said, pushing them into his hands. Dmitry considered the fruit for a second before accepting them.

"Stay here," Dmitry said, backing away. Anastasia watched as he turned to talk to the boys. She couldn't hear what they were saying from where she stood, but whatever he told them they seemed to accept. He bounded back over to her and led her back up the street.

"Come on," he breathed. "I'm taking you home."

"But I don't want to go home," she said, shaking off his arm. "I want to stay out here."

"I'm just trying to look out for you, Anastasia."

"How dare you call me that. That's your Highness to you," she hissed, then paused to think for a moment. "Besides, I thought you said people around here can't know who I am. What if someone overheard you?"

"Well what else am I supposed to call you?" Dmitry was becoming annoyed very quickly with the younger girl.

"Well I don't know," she said, "something else. Like a nickname. My sisters call me Nastya. I guess you can call me that too when I'm out here."

"I'm not calling you anything while you're out here, because you're not sneaking out ever again," he informed her.

"I'll have you know Dmitry, that I don't have to listen to a word you say," she said. "You're not the boss of me, and you wouldn't be even if I wasn't a Grand Duchess."

"It's for your own good," he tried to insist.

"I'll be the judge of that, thank you very much." Anastasia turned her back on him and stomped all the way back to the palace on her own.


Please review and tell me what you think! (But also please be nice because it's my baby. I'll accept criticisms, but please no flames.)