Ever since I wrote "The Dream Lives On," I've been delving into Romanov history, learning more about Anastasia and her family. The one member of the family who truly intrigues me is Anastasia's mother, Alexandra Feodorovna, and her relationships with her husband, children, and mother-in-law. I wanted to write a story showing Marie's strained relationship with Alexandra, with the hope that, after many years, Marie was finally able to understand her daughter-in-law through the love of Anastasia. I also hope that this story serves as a small character study on Alexandra - the woman who, although not cut out to be queen of a massive empire, was a devoted wife and mother who loved her family with every fiber of her being. There is also some Romanov history woven into this story - see how many factoids about the imperial family you can pick out!

Note: I'm following the ages of the children as they were portrayed in the film. For instance, Anastasia would have been seven years old in 1915, as she was eight when the palace was seized in 1916 in the film. By the same timeline, in 1915, this would have made Olga 13, Tatiana 11, Marie 9, and Alexei 4.

"You and Mama never got along very well, did you?"

A twinge of guilt seeped into Marie Feodorovna's heart at her granddaughter's question. In the dowager empress's bedroom, she and Anastasia were reliving long-forgotten memories, looking over old photographs and letters. If only some memories would stay forgotten. "No, Nastya," she said softly, bowing her head. "We didn't, and it's something I've never been able to forgive myself for since she died." She gave Anastasia a sad smile. "What made you remember that, of all things?"

"I found this among the pictures." Anastasia held up a small, framed photo of her mother, taken in 1911. Alexandra Feodorovna was wearing what appeared to be a simple, black Victorian gown, her hair was arranged in a Gibson Girl pompadour, and her face... with her lowered eyes and a pout playing with her lips, the czarina appeared to be in mourning – for someone or something, it was impossible to tell. "She looks so lost," Anastasia said, observing the picture again. "I remembered her looking like that once when I was seven. I think it was at a party at your palace."

Again, Marie felt guilt twist her heart. How well she remembered. Too well. June 18, 1915. "It was. It was your seventh birthday, and I insisted on throwing you a party at Anitchkov. How much of it do you remember, my dear?"

Anastasia thought for a minute. "I remember all of us being there and Mama being sad... and Papa laughing, but that's about it. Wait..." She pressed her fingers to her temple, closing her eyes. "Someone cried that day. Someone was hurt."

Marie sighed heavily. As much as she hated dredging up memories like this, she didn't want to lie to her granddaughter. Anastasia needed the true memories of her past, not false ones. "Not only one was hurt, darling." She patted the empty spot on her chaise longue; Anastasia joined her and waited for Marie to begin her tale. The empress took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Birthdays were always so precious to our family. Your parents had already honored you at home, but I wanted to do a little something extra just for you..."

Although Marie loved all of her grandchildren dearly, Anastasia - "Shvibzik," the little imp – held a special place in her heart. Not only did she, more so than her three sisters, most closely resemble Marie, she also possessed the same lively, outgoing nature and sunny spirit. The girl could charm anyone, much like Marie herself had charmed the Russian people during her days as empress.

Anastasia could charm people so well, in fact, that Marie had not been able to resist when the child begged for a special favor. Marie's gift to Anastasia was a new pair of roller skates, and the dear girl was absolutely over the moon, pleading with Marie to let her try them – inside the palace. Of course, it didn't take long for little Marie – affectionately known as Mashka – to join in, and four-year-old Alexei, who always wanted to play wild games with his sisters, added his voice to the chorus of pleas.

As soon as Alexei asked to skate, Marie's gaze shifted to her daughter-in-law. She knew instinctively that Alexandra's answer would be no, for more than one reason. "I don't think so," the czarina said, confirming Marie's prediction. "Grandmama won't like it if you tear up the palace corridors, and what if your brother fell? You know what happens when he hurts himself."

The girls went silent and their smiles vanished; Marie herself frowned. It was true, Alexei's hemophilia prevented him from doing anything "dangerous," but why bring it up now? Alexandra meant well; Marie knew that, but her attitude had cast a pall over the party. Marie knew she had to act quickly to save the falling spirits in the room. "I don't mind," she spoke up, kindly, but with a steely edge. "It's only for one day. Let them have as much fun as they want. Mashka already has a pair of skates here, and as for Alyosha, perhaps the girls can push him up and down the halls in a wheelchair." She stared pointedly at Alexandra. "The one you're not using right now, Alix dear?"

Alexandra flushed and opened her mouth to say something when 11-year-old Tatiana interrupted. "Mama's right, Grandmama. Alexei could get hurt if he plays with them, and besides, it's not very ladylike for Mashka and Anastasia to go flying down the halls like that, screaming and making all kinds of dreadful racket."

Not for the first time, Marie saw why Tatiana's siblings called her "the Governess." She spoke with the air of one in authority; one used to giving orders and being obeyed. Tatiana spoke as though she were both the eldest and the heir – ironic, considering that she was neither one. Marie highly suspected that Tatiana's dominance came from an unofficial position she held – that of her mother's favorite companion. No doubt, the girl got her point of view from Alexandra: well-meaning, but busy in all the wrong places. Tatiana simply didn't grasp the idea of fun like her younger siblings did. "Tatiana," Marie said, with a rather sly grin, "It might surprise you to learn that Mashka and Anastasia would not be the first to skate down the halls. Right, Nicky?" She winked at her son, who chuckled, his face a brilliant cherry red.

"Right, Mama. You see, children, when your Uncle George, Aunt Xenia, and I were young, we used to fly down the halls together on our skates. One time, when I was twelve, Uncle George was nine, and Aunt Xenia was five, we all clattered down the hall in a race, and we had a fine old time – until Uncle George plowed right into your grandpapa."

"He didn't!" 13-year-old Olga, who had remained quiet until now, suddenly piped up. "Was Grandpapa hurt? Was he angry?"

Nicholas laughed. "Oh, he was turning a nice shade of purple, but Aunt Xenia managed to charm him out of punishing us, much like our little Shvibzik here," he said, gently tweaking Anastasia's nose. "As for the first question, he wasn't hurt at all. Your Grandpapa Alexander was a great bear of a man, and he wasn't even winded when Uncle George slammed into him."

"Was Uncle George hurt, Papa?" Mashka asked, her big blue eyes riveted on Nicholas.

"Only his pride, Mashka. He swore he'd never do anything dangerous again, but he was climbing trees in the imperial park not two days later."

Marie wiped tears from her eyes, both of mirth and sorrow. Her son George, Nicholas's first brother, had died in a motorcycle crash only a few years after Nicholas became czar, and the memory of losing him was still raw. However, reliving the happy memories of him brought joy to her still-healing heart. "My monkey child." She caressed the faces of her two youngest grandchildren. "I see so much of him in both of you, especially you, Alyosha."

Alexei beamed ear-to-ear at this praise. "I want to be just like Uncle George, Grandmama. He wasn't afraid of anything!"

"No, you don't!" Alexandra said fearfully, clutching her son's shoulders. "Uncle George was always getting hurt, Alexei. You don't want to get hurt and bleed inside, do you?"

Marie was about to say something sharp to her daughter-in-law when Nicholas, thankfully, intervened. "Sunny," he said, gently but firmly, "I know you want to keep Alexei safe, as do I. After all, he is the czarevich. But he is still a boy, just as Mashka and Nastya are still girls. Let them be children, especially for today. As long as the girls promise to be careful, they could do what Mama suggested."

Marie internally cheered for Nicholas, until... "All right. The girls may skate, but not Alexei."

Alexei's little face fell and tears glistened in his blue-gray eyes. "Oh, Mama, let me play, please! I promise I'll be careful!"

Alexandra's gaze softened as she took her son into her arms. "Hush, Baby," she crooned softly to him. "I know you want to play, but skating, even if you are in a wheelchair, is too dangerous. We can't have you bleeding inside if you fall. Papa, Grandmama, your sisters, and I don't want to lose you. You are far too precious to us, my little sunbeam." She chucked Alexei under his chin. "Do you understand, sweetheart?"

Alexei nodded, but it didn't stanch the flow of tears as he cried into the czarina's shoulder. Mashka and Anastasia stood by, skates in hand, staring dolefully at their brother. "Maybe now's not a good time to skate, Nastya," Mashka said to her sister.

Anastasia nodded, a frown mark pinching the space between her eyes. Marie could practically see the wheels turning; the girl was thinking up something fun to save this day. Suddenly, her face lit up. "I have an idea! Why don't we all put on a play for Mama, Papa, and Grandmama? Just OTMA and Alexei!"

"That's a wonderful idea!" Olga said, grinning. "We can act out 'Cinderella', like we've been practicing."

"Although Tanya doesn't need to practice much for her part," Anastasia quipped, shooting her second-eldest sister a sly look.

Tatiana merely tossed her head. "Just don't forget the stepmother is an important part. Someone has to boss you around, Shvibzik." Finally, she smiled. "And Grandmama has that trunk full of old gowns and clothes in our playroom. We've got a lot to pick from!"

Anastasia gave her brother a grin. "How'd you like to play Cinderella's prince, Alyosha? You can dance with me, and you can stomp all over Olga and Mashka's toes!"

Instantly, the czarevich's face brightened. "Terrific!" he cried happily, wriggling out of his mother's arms. "Can I stomp on Tanya's toes, too?"

Completely ignoring Tatiana's "don't you dare," Anastasia whispered, "Stomp them for me!" as the four grand duchesses and their baby brother went off to play.

Marie sighed in relief once the children were out of earshot. "Thank goodness. Anastasia really saved the day. Now they can actually have some fun, and Alexei can enjoy himself as he should."

A spark of defense flashed in Alexandra's eyes. "Mother, dear, I only want Alexei's safety, and the well-being of all my children. Is that so much to ask?"

"Of course not. But is letting your children be children, without worrying them to death, also too much to ask? Apparently so, for one who seems to enjoy worrying about everything."

The instant the words were out of her mouth, Marie regretted them. Alexandra gasped, her eyes glowing with pain, and fell silent for the remainder of the day. As if that wasn't enough, Nicholas's reproachful look only squeezed Marie's heart with guilt even more. She and Alexandra had never been especially fond of each other. Marie was very outgoing and radiated strength and confidence; Alexandra was introverted and quiet, shunning court life in favor of her family. Marie actually applauded this devotion, but had also been miffed at the rumors that dogged the shy czarina. Alexandra couldn't see that her shyness and her awkward knowledge of Russian customs made her seem cold and aloof to the Russian people.

It seemed as though the harder either one of them tried to make the other see reason, the two empresses locked horns, and someone wound up hurt. Marie was the victor today, but was Alexandra's pain worth it? Would she ever come to understand her daughter-in-law? Would they ever get down to the heart of the matter? Would the two czarinas ever find peace at last?

"Unfortunately, I never got the chance to tell your mother how sorry I was for not understanding – or even trying to," Marie said, tears beginning to drip down her cheeks. "I never fully grasped how lonely, how worried she was until the night everything I held dear was lost. When I lost my family and my home, I knew how she felt, worrying that she would lose her family as well. And during my years of exile here in Paris, with no one but Sophie to lean on, I knew the depth of her loneliness."

Marie took Anastasia's face in her hands. "I was wrong to be so cold toward your mama, my darling. It's taken me years to realize that all she needed was a real mother. You see, her own mother died when Alix was just a child, and I think it was the source of her desire to keep her family safe." The empress lowered her eyes in shame. "I also wasn't quite ready to give up my position as czarina of Russia, and not to someone whom I thought did not possess the strength of character necessary for the wife of a czar. Now I know the truth. In holding her family together and not responding to her critics, the ones who despised her and called her 'the German woman', with equal vitriol, she showed tremendous strength."

Anastasia clasped her grandmother's hands and squeezed them tight. "Grandmama, it's all right. We've all made mistakes. Lord knows I have. You and Mama were just... different, that's all. And based on what you've told me, I think Mama may have had some anxiety. I saw it a lot with the kids at the orphanage. They were lonely, cold, and scared, with no parents and no one to love them. They all looked to me because they thought I was the brave one." The grand duchess chuckled. "They didn't know I was as lonely and scared as they were."

Tears were pouring down Marie's face now. After all these years, she finally understood. Alexandra's character had been revealed to her in the form of the youngest grand duchess – like Marie in personality, but whose journey showed the vulnerability and hidden strength she had inherited from her mother. Alexandra had not been cut out to be a flashy doyenne of society or empress of all the Russias, that was for sure, but she had indeed been the queen of her family's hearts. Alexandra's fierce love for her family was reflected in the familial yearnings of a lost princess, and her desire to just be with her family had finally come true in Anastasia's "resurrection."

Home. Love. Family.

For years, Marie had only seen Alexandra's surface. Tonight, she saw her soul. Alexandra was still living on, her memory glowing in the blue eyes of her youngest daughter. "Oh, Anastasia," Marie said, wrapping her granddaughter up in a hug. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"For what, Grandmama?"

"For showing me your mama's heart. I understand now, Nastya. I just hope, even in heaven, that Alix will forgive me."

All of a sudden, rain began to fall outside the window, which opened onto the balcony. A few drops blew in, sprinkling Marie's face, and a new, wonderful peace settled over her spirit. The rain was Alexandra's tears, she knew it – but no longer were these tears of sorrow. These were tears of joy. Thank you, God, and thank you, Alix, for your forgiveness.

Anastasia likewise felt the rain on her face, and her face lit up with the same joyous glow. "I think she has, Grandmama," she said, hugging Marie even tighter. The heart of the matter had finally been healed. "I know she has."