Russia walked alone. As was his custom throughout his country. He had had a hard life recently. His bosses being cruel to his people, his people starving and now there were new wars on the horizon. It had started or at least his most recent bout at the beginning of the 1900's. Russia shook his head to clear his mind. It would do him no good to bring back memories of those times. The current world conference was being held in his country of all places. He decided to have it in the Siberian federal district. Something had been calling him there so he figured he would find out what. He walked into the conference hall that felt warm enough to him. Apparently the other nations disagreed because they were all covered head to toe in winter clothes shivering.

"Hello friends. Why are you all doing the shivering? It is quite nice in here da." Russia said.

"Dud...dude... Would you mind t...t…turning up the he...heat?" America asked.

"Of course." Russia answered. He turned and turned up the heat so that the weaker nations could relax.

"Now friends we should be doing the start of the meeting. I think we could start with Switzerland…"

"No way you communist villain! We should totally start with Switzerland." America, who because he was no longer cold, decided to take control again.

"That is what I was just saying…" Russia reminded him.

"Doesn't matter dude. I as the hero will totally take control." America said.

Russia sighed. It was like this every year. Sure he had some terrible bosses but who hadn't? Italy had had Mussolini who was pretty bad but no one kept reminding Italy if those days. No one reminded America of his treatment of Japanese-Americans during the Second World War or his treatment of his own natives. Why did they always remind him of such painful days? Russia knew he was a scary guy, he wasn't stupid but he really did try to be kind now that his bosses weren't as cruel. Why didn't the other nations understand that he was trying to heal too?

"America, the meeting is in my country da? I think that gives me control of the meeting. Now Switzerland will you begin the talking of the presentation." Russia said forcefully letting a little more of his aura escape to scare the American into submission. America did sit down but he glared at Russia for the entire meeting muttering something about communist pigs.

When the meeting let out for lunch all of the nations were going to stay inside the sort of warm room. Russia needed a break. He felt himself being pulled towards the outside so he let himself wander. The snow was piled up high in drifts making it a beautiful winter wonderland. Russia had a weird relationship with snow. He loved it and respected it but there were days that he dreamt of nothing but sunny fields filled with sunflowers. He loved and hated the cold. He was so distracted in his own mind that he tripped over a log. HE fell flat on his face and turned around to see what had tripped him up.

That's not a log. Russia's eyes widened at the sight of a young girl with red hair mostly buried in the snow. Russia had seen many of his people die and freeze in the cold Siberia but this girl was something different. Without thinking Russia picked up the girl and cleared the snow off of her. He felt for a pulse mechanically like he would've done on the battle field. At the feel of the pulse Russia felt himself became much happier. He didn't know why but this girl was special.

Russia then looked at the face of the girl he had found and his eyes widened. That was her face. The face he had tried to erase from his mind. The face that filled his nightmares with screams of terror and pain as she was shot to death. His body shuddered at the memory of seeing his beloved tsar and his family killed. Without thinking he ran back into the conference room to try and save the life of the girl who looked like an exact copy of his beloved Nastya. The world had known her as the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova but he and the family had known her as the tomboy Nastya. His love cut down before she could see everything the world had to offer.

They had loved each other. His heart had been broken at her death and he had been unable to try and support or fight against any new government that came in being practically catatonic for a year. He had never forgotten her laugh, her voice or her jokes. He had watched her grow from a baby to a beautiful 16 year old girl that he would love deeply. He remembered the kiss he had placed on her lips telling each other they would be true through all time. He had been true to her and would always be. The logical part of his mind was shoved into the back as it explained that this was Nastya. Russia didn't care. He burst into the room and ran over to the table. The nations were shocked to see the normally silent Russia so frantic. Russia screaming in Russian called for the doctor that accompanied him on his journeys.

"DOCTOR DOCTOR COME IN HERE RIGHT NOW! WE HAVE A YONG GIRL NEARLY FROZEN TO DEATH!"

"Russia, calm down no one can understand you dude. What did you do to that girl Russia?" America asked concerned for the nearly frozen girl now lying on the table. The nations looked in shock as another man walked in looking terrified at being called in. HE called to Russia in their native tongue.

"Mr. Russia. The girl does she have a pulse?"

"Yes but its faint. I command you to do everything to save her as if she was your own daughter!"

This was a G8 meeting. No one spoke Russian but the two men who were examining the girl. They heard the desperation in Russia's voice that broke as he pointed to the girl. Whoever this girl was Russia clearly knew her and he was worried. Russia's aura was large and intimidating but the man himself looked like he was at a breaking point. The doctor began his ministrations and ran out of the room to get himself supplies. It was then that England tried to find out what was wrong.

"Russia. What happened? Do you need help with the girl there?" England moved over closer to the girl. Russia stiffened.

"Do not touch her. If you do I will destroy you. She is too good for your touch." Russia said defensively.

The nations moved back to the opposite side of the room. Russia was clearly having a major freak out over this girl. France noted that she was about 16 and looked quite beautiful. Not that he would say anything of the sort while Russia was there. England noticed that she had a strange aura about her normally humans didn't give off any detectable aura only nations did. Was she a personification? America noted her clothing. It looked like something from the early 1900's clothing he hadn't seen in a long time. In fact the dress looked very fancy something one of his first lady's would've worn.

Germany just tried to calm down Italy who was freaking out over scary Mr. Russia. Canada was actually standing right next to the girl. He felt for her pulse and saw that she was breathing lightly. He knew she was a personification he could tell but of what? Why was she half frozen in the snow? Japan quietly exited the room and asked the doctor what was wrong. The doctor replied in broken English.

"Mr. Russia asked to heal her."

That didn't explain much. Japan returned and told the group that Russia was trying to save a girl he found in the snow. The others nation did not relax however. Russia's aura was huge and menacing. The doctor stumbled in and began to work. It was then that Russia collapsed into sobs saying things in Russian about his lost love.

"I miss my Nastya. She was my one and only. The only woman to ever melt my heart. Why did she have to die so young?"

Russia's aura disappeared completely and the nations now saw a completely broken man. No one understood what he was saying but France knew the emotion well. He had felt it with the lost of his beloved Jeanne. He had felt empty and lost mourning the loss of life and love. Who had Russia lost? France certainly didn't know. Nobody did. Everyone who knew of Russia's love had been killed the same night she had been killed. France however did not need to know who Russia had lost. He walked up to the man and pulled him into a hug. Touch had helped him and that was all he knew to do.

Russia curled into the fetal position. He cried like he hadn't been allowed to cry all those years. The other nations just stood there in silence for thirty minutes watching the once frightening Russia cry out in his native tongue about something that made them feel inexpressible sadness. The doctor worked madly. The girl was holding on strong and he helped heat her up slowly. When she began to stir he turned to tell Mr. Russia his very frightening boss.

"Mr. Russia. The girl is stable she should wake up soon and will want food. I suggest hot soup. I will bring some in when you call for me next."

"Thank you." Russia replied in his native tongue. He turned to France whose clothes were wet and ruffled from his crying.

"Thank you, France." Russia said.

He stood up and walked over to the girl. He held her hand and waited. She was attached to an IV and her head was propped up on the table with blankets piled up on top her. Soon she groaned and opened her eyes. Russia gasped at the striking blue they held. Those were his Nastya's eyes. The girls eyes widened in recognition at the sight of Russia. In a broken voice that had not been used in nearly a hundred years.

"Ivan?"

"Nastya? Is that you? Have you returned to me?" Russia asked in hope.

"Ivan I missed you." Anastasia replied.

Russia pulled the girl into a tight hug and she hugged him back. His body bringing her the warmth she had not felt in a long time. She did not know where she was or why she was there but she did not care. Her Ivan was here so all would be well. She hugged him back until her stomach grumbled. This brought her back to reality and she noticed that there were other people in the room. She recognized a few, she had seen Mr. England and Mr. France once at a ball when she had been much younger. Speaking in English.

"Ivan, you have food don't you?" Anastasia asked.

"Of course dear Nastya." Turning his head he called for the doctor to bring soup.

"Don't call me Nastya in public! You know better than that dear Ivan. I call you Mr. Russia and you call me…" Anastasia asked.

"The Honored Princess Anastasia Romanova. Don't think I've forgotten my dear." Russia replied with a smile that none of the other nations had ever seen before. America not sensing the mood, once again.

"Russia dude! Did you just call her Anastasia like the murdered princess Anastasia?" America asked loudly.

At the mention of murder the girl in Russia's arms stiffened. The memories of that night rushed into her mind. Her family being gunned down. Her brother dying her own death all flashed into her mind and tears began to stream down her face.

"Ivan, that night wasn't a nightmare?" Anastasia asked through her tears.

No, I am sorry I couldn't save you. I tried I searched for you everywhere. I tried to save all of you but I was shot many times that night. I am so sorry my princess, I have never forgiven myself." Russia replied.

"So that is totally the murdered princess! That's so sweet Russia how did you find her?" America asked.

The doctor came in there with a bowl of hot soup and placed it next to the two people sitting on the table. Anastasia's arms were too weak to feed herself so Russia fed her himself. While he did so he said with that strange smile they had never before seen.

"Please go outside and make your way to the kitchen. The people will give you some food, friends. Return here and we will continue the meeting." Russia didn't remove his eyes from his beloved's face.

"How long ago was that night Ivan?" Anastasia asks as she notices the strange things in the room.

"Nastya you've been dead for 96 years. How did you get here?" Russia asked.

"I don't know. I just woke up on this table and then saw you. I feel different not like I did before. Stronger." Anastasia said.

"You look the same my dear. Even after a century you are still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." Russia said with a blush.

"Ivan did you ever find me a field of sunflowers?" Anastasia asked reminiscing.

"Yes. I visited it every year to remind me of my lost sunshine." Russia said sadly.

"I am here. I am never leaving you, ever. I don't know what god sent me back here but I am never leaving. I imagine the world has changed much since my death but if you are here then I am happy." Anastasia

The nations returned then with warm meals in their hands and questions on their minds. Italy sat down by Germany and the rest of the nations followed suit. It was strange that Russia's aura went away completely when he looked at Anastasia. His aura returned completely when he looked at the other nations though.

"Now we can have a working lunch da? England you would be doing the presentation on the global climate change." Russia said.

Russia went back to feeding the young girl on the table who snaked down to sit in his lap. England did his presentation trying to get things cleared up quickly. It was then that he realized something, humans neither living nor resurrected were supposed to attend these meetings.

"Russia. Do you think Anastasia is supposed to be here? I mean it is personifications only." England said. Before Russia could respond Anastasia looked him straight in the eyes.

"I remember you. I would think the gentlemen that you so claimed to be would not question the presence of a lady such as I. Besides I think it is clear even to the ignorant I that I am clearly not human anymore." Anastasia said. "Also I have no idea what you are talking about. I could talk night and day about the politics of the early 1900's but as Russia has informed me I am about 100 years behind on the world. I hardly see how it matters if I am here or not. And a third thing I doubt a scrawny man such as yourself would be able to remove me."

America laughed at that. No one had something like that to England in far too long. He liked this princess more and more every second. France laughed at the look of England's face as he got angrier and angrier.

"If you know who I am then why would you speak to me in such a disrespectful manner?" England demanded.

"My word! I am the great England! I am so wonderful even though I hit my prime in 1750 and was never able to bounce back again! I even lost to one of my bloody colonies and France!" Anastasia said in a near perfect impersonation of England.

Russia was trying very hard not to giggle and the other nations were laughing as well. England just stood there with an open jaw struggling to make a noise.

"Oh Angleterre. She has you perfectly! Annoying accent and all!" France exclaimed.

"Oh I am the very weak France who was too busy trying to outshine England that I never actually did become a great world power! Always trying to do what other countries did but never as well as them! Je suis une triste homme!" Anastasia said in a perfectly mocking French accent.

It was England's turn to laugh then. All the countries laughed even the stoic Germany and quiet Japan. Russia smiled and hugged his Anastasia closer.

"I am sorry other nations. The Princess Anastasia can be quite with the making the jokes. She is quite wonderful is she not?" Russia said.

"Well dudes I think we could cut this meeting short and figure out this whole Anastasia thing. I think its super cool she is alive but we might want to figure out like how." America said.

"That's actual a sensible idea America." England said. "I noticed that the girl is now exhibiting an aura."

"Hai I noticed it as well. Do you think she could be a new personification?" Japan asked.

"I've never heard of a human dying and coming back as a personification." England replied.

"Besides there aren't any new countries in the world. There is nothing new for her to personify." Germany added.

The nations talked among themselves while Russia just stared at the red hair that was the top of his beloved. He started rubbing her shoulders so that she would relax. She in time and soon she had fallen asleep in his lap. It reminded him of the times when she was much smaller that they would sing together. Or rather she would play the piano and he would sing. Ivan reached down and deftly removed her IV and covered it while she slept. The nations still argued about what could have possibly brought Anastasia back when suddenly Italy thought of something.

"Mr. Russia!" Italy nearly yelped.

"Yes Italy?" Russia replied in an unusually light tone.

"Anastasia was a princess right? I thought all of her family was killed and then your new boss was communist after that. Does she know that she isn't a princess anymore?" Italy asked his voice becoming almost silent again.

Russia felt himself stiffen. What would his beloved think of him? He was a much different nation now. A hundred years had changed him, he wasn't the laughing man who sang and joked in the royal palace. How would she take the news that her country was seen as some evil being bent on taking over the world? The news that her palace her childhood home was not the same level of glory it once was? She would hate him like all the other nations did. In a broken voice he replied.

"When she learns what has become of her beloved Russia she will probably leave me in shame, Italy. She knows her family was killed she saw that happen but she does not know what happened afterwards. The horrors my people and I had to endure. I am not the same man. She will hate me just as the rest of you do."

"We don't hate you…" America tied to say.

"No need to lie America. I am a scary man. I know that. I've been alone for most of my life and I know why that is. I would be a fool not to know at this point. Her family though, they loved me as one of their own. She and I loved each other in a way no other sentient being has since. Her death broke me, I was no longer capable of love or empathy. I stopped trying to fight for my people as my bosses forced them into starvation and death. I am not the proud strong Russia she loved. I am a husk…" Russia left it at that.

The other seven nations felt their hearts break a little. They had all been, except for Canada of course, guilty of treating Russia poorly because of his aura and his long string of evil bosses. They brought it up constantly not realizing that it was just as bad for him as it had been for them. None of them knew that he had lost his love in that revolution. America felt the guiltiest. He had spent 50 years in a "cold" war with the nation because he thought he was evil. It just seemed that he had forgotten that Russia had a boss. That it was his boss that forced him to do those things. It was then that he stood up and walked over to Russia to face him. HE knelt down and looked the man in the face.

"Dude I am super sorry. I just judged you for no reason other than that I couldn't see past my own nose at your own situation. Is there any way you can forgive me dude?" America asked.

"Da. In time we may become good friends." Russia replied with a forced smile.

His smiles didn't come naturally anymore. They were only forced. He had only smiled naturally with the old tsars and their families. His true smile had died with his Nastya. The girl who was now alive and sleeping in his lap.

"I think I know what she is Russia." Canada said as loudly as possible. It was thankfully one of the few times someone actually saw and heard him.

"What do you think she is, Canada?" Russia asked.

"Russia has General Winter in his country which is just a representation of the harsh winters that Russia has used as protection against foreign invaders. What if Anastasia represents something like that? She could represent Siberia, I mean you did find her here in the snow. She could just represent a political border inside your own country." Canada explained.

"That's a great idea bro! She could totally represent a geographical feature in Russia!" America said. "That would explain that she was reborn again. Since she represents part of him when the personification was born it took the form of the thing Russia loved the most."

It was then that Russia realized what she was. She was his princess alive once more but she was also the representation of the indomitable Russian spirit. His people had been through hell and back more than once. Whether by political struggles, terrible rulers or harsh environments his people continued to live and thrive in the harshness of their world. That was his Nastya, stubborn in the face of every situation.

"She is my spirit. I represent the people but she represents their hope." Russia said.

The nations, upon hearing this explanation, knew that it was true. Why she had been born now, no one knew but that didn't really matter. It was then that France realized he still had some things he could give to help. He had clothing from the time period. He kept all clothing that was in fashion never knowing when something would come back. He always wanted the actual vintage article when it did.

"Italy is wrong mes amis. That girl in Russia's arms is still a princess. I have the clothing for her at my home. She can dress as she was born too, if she wishes. We may not be able to bring back her power, her palace or her family but she is a princess. I believe that if she represents what you say then she will be as regal as she was born to be and she will rise again as her name suggests." France said passionately.

France loved a good love story and this was by far better than anything he could've imagined. This girl would continue to love Russia he knew. He also knew that she would be dressed regally like the Grand Duchess she was. Russia smiled a thank you. It was then that the servants came in letting everyone know that their rooms were ready.

Since the conference was a month long Russia had decided to hold it at one of his own homes. He had the guest rooms, which were never used, cleaned out and had each of the nations get one of their own. Russia picked up the girl in his arms and walked to his own bedroom. It was large and had enough room for three people. The other nations went to their own rooms. Russia laid down his princess. She looked so weak and frail, not unlike she had been the few years before her death. Life had been difficult for the Romanova's, the execution had not been surprising for the family. They had been in house arrest for some time before that. Anastasia had lost a lot of her glow when the war had been declared. She had cried for days and not even her beloved Ivan had been able to console her. She had tried to be happy for him but he knew that she hated the war. She had cried a lot after that.

She had been brought back to him as she had been before she had died. He quickly got into his pajamas and crawled in next to her. They had spent many nights like this in the years before she died. They had loved each other. Both of their first kisses had been shared together. She needed comfort and she got that from a few sources her favorite being her dog and Ivan himself. They had spent nights where she would sleep curled in a ball in Ivan's chest like a cat. Her father of course has not approved but he had never been able to stop her from coming into his room.

Ivan remembered a wonderful night when her father had discussed marriage between the two of them. They both knew how a marriage between a personification and a mortal would end but they also knew that Nastya would have it no other way. They had both agreed that unless some other man won her heart they would marry when she turned 18. They had not told her though. Ivan wanted Nastya to find a man she could grow old with. He had never had the chance to see her marry and have children. Ivan fell asleep stroking the beautiful red hair and thinking of the joy inside of himself at the fact that his beloved had returned.

The other nations had things on their mind. Who knew Russia had feelings? They all wanted desperately for Russia to be this way all the time. Suddenly his behavior made sense. How would they have reacted if their own people killed their true love? No wonder Russia had seemed so cold and depressed. He had no reason to be happy or friendly to anyone. They had only made the problem worse by isolating him from the world when he really needed people to cry with. Each country fell asleep trying to plan what they would do the next day.