Hi guys! This is my first fanfic for Anastasia, but it's been brewing in my mind for a while now!

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing about this!

Enjoy!

"…your mother though, she was born in a real palace, right off of the sea." Dmitri Sudayev whispered to the tiny bundle of blankets in his arms, looking out over the waking city. Morning light poured in through the thin lilac drapes, bathing him and the infant in a golden glow. "This is as close as we can get you to that, love. But, I think it works pretty well, don't you? Your great grandmother's mansion, right beside the Seine." He ran his finger down the newborn's cheek, coaxing her sky-colored eyes to open. She was barely eight hours old, with no official name, but Dima already knew he'd go to the ends of the earth to keep her from living the life he did. The life Anya lived, too. "They're all waiting to see you. Nana, your Aunt Lily, Uncle Vlad.. but your mother deserves some rest before, don't you think?" The infant blinked up at him sleepily, and Dmitri couldn't wipe the smile from his face.

"Really I'm just trying to keep Lily from running her mouth about her down at the Neva club before she even has a name." Anya teased, drawing his attention to where she was laying on her side in the bed. "you know, I thought a hospital would be fine, but this bed is really worth all the fawning from Nana." She pushed herself into a sitting position, waving off Dmitri when he tried to assist her. Anya stretched her arms above her head, hiding the slight wince at the discomfort the movement brought her. "Have you put her down at all, Dima?" She teased, a brilliant yet tired smile resting on her face.

"Only when you had her." He admitted, offering the purple bundle from his arms over to her. "They offered to take her so I could sleep… but.." How was he supposed to say I'm afraid she'll disappear without sounding irrational.

"I know. I can't let her go either." Anya mirrored his unspoken fear, adjusting her daughter in her arms. "Are you going to let Mama get a good look at you?" She cooed to the baby, unwrapping the blanket just slightly. "She's got your hair, Dima!" She bumped his arm with her shoulder as she took the knitted cap off of their daughter. Dark, thick hair covered her head, much like that of her father. "Can you open your eyes for me, mon Cherie?"

"They're blue. Romanov blue." He confirmed, his arm draping around her shoulders gently. His hand ran over her upper arm, as they both looked at their daughter.

"did you let her get any sleep, or were you too busy telling her about your greatest cons?" Anastasia secured the blanket a little tighter around her daughter, before leaning into him. "did you come up with a name for her, during your talk?"

"isn't it you who names her? You're the princess." Dmitri kissed her temple quickly, barely able to tear his eyes from the little girl. "She's a princess, too."

"She's just our daughter. Just a normal, happy baby." Anya insisted, subconsciously tightening her grip on her. A princess would be locked in a basement in Yekaterinburg. A princess would be taken out by the Bolsheviks in a second. A princess can still end up a starving, nameless orphan.

"She's safe, Anya. She'll never go through.. what you did." He promised, now mirroring her fears. Dmitri quickly decided to change the subject- Anya's nightmares had gotten worse as she got closer to the birth of their daughter, and all he could do was hope they subsided for her sake.

"We could call her Alexandra, for your Mother?"

"I like Alexandra.. but if we had a boy I'd want to call him Alexei and aren't those too similar for siblings? I'd like to save that."

Dima smiled a little, at the suggestion that she wanted another child, even after he heard her screams for hours on end. "you want another one already?"

"Shut up, Dmitri. What about.. Tatiana?"

"did you just pick a random sister?"

"Natalia."

"I knew a Natalia once.. she was-"

"Okay, not Natalia. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Anastasia."

"I'm not naming her after myself, Dima."

"Okay, what about-"

It came to them in unison, as did the way it poured off their lips.

"Maria"

"Maria."

Anastasia looked down at their daughter, who was looking up at her with the same eyes as herself. As her father. And her Nona. Maria was undoubtedly her mother's daughter. It made sense for her to have the name of the woman who brought her this life. Maria Feodorovna was the last living blood relative of Anastasia until that very morning. It was fitting.

"Maria is perfect. Absolutely perfect." Anya whispered, stroking Maria's cheek softly. "aren't you, sweet girl?"

Dmitri's hand covered Anya's, where it rested on the baby's tiny head. "Maria it is." He rested his chin atop her head, the smell of her lavender shampoo soothing any remaining fears about their new life.

So much had changed in their two years since meeting. The princess training, the trip to Paris, the discoveries, the falling for the love of his life all over again. Leaving her title behind, travelling France, their grand wedding at the insistence of Lily and the Dowager. Their quick returning to Paris at the discovery of their little surprise. Sweet little Maria. They certainly hadn't expected life, for once, to be so simple and so.. happy.

"So, your highness, who do we let in first?"