This story begins immediately after the events of the film's opening scene. Much like the movie Anastasia, it takes place within an actual historical event and the main character was a real person. While I tried my best while writing this to keep the setting somewhat historically accurate, I may have taken creative liberties for the sake of the story.

The train station was noisy as always, and twice as crowded.

With all the large amounts of people, seemingly all in a hurry, no one seemed to notice the trio of
Bolshevik soldiers trekking through the crowd.

The man at the head of the group was young and handsome and carried himself with pride and dignity. The two who followed him were slightly taller, much older, and much more intimidating. One was hefty and hid his lips under a mustache that was almost as bushy as his eyebrows. The other was thinner, shaved, and more well-groomed.

With their rifles slung over their shoulders, they hastily pushed through the large crowd, their eyes fixated on the trains still waiting to take off. However as they drew closer, the soldier in front stopped dead in his tracks.

"My god…" he uttered to himself.

His companions turned to him with looks of urgency on their faces.

"What are you doing comrade?" the tall one blurted out "We have to keep moving!"

Ignoring his comrade, the young soldier walked away from his comrades and moved closer to what lay in front of him: it was a girl.

A little girl, probably no older than ten. She had a head of long auburn locks that draped over her head, all wrapped up neatly in a bow. She was dressed in a bright red winter coat wrapped hastily around a velvet night gown. She lay battered and bruised on the hard wooden platform, her right arm spread out and her left hand resting on her chest.

The young soldier handed his rifle to his hefty comrade and then knelt down, removing his hat and cradling the girl in his arms. He turned his head putting his ear to her chest, and heard a faint beating of the heart.

"She's still alive," he exclaimed as he turned to his comrades.

"We need to get her to a doctor!"

The two soldiers looked at each other and then back.

"We don't have time comrade." the hefty one said in a deep voice.

"We are in the middle of all out revolt!" the thin one exclaimed. "We may have successfully driven the royals out of the palace, but we still need to secure these trains so none of the Romanovs can escape!"

The young soldier looked down, contemplating his next action. He knew that their work was not yet done. For years, he and his fellow reds had dreamed of the day that they could finally take up arms against the Tsar, and on this night their grand dream was coming to fruition.

Yet as he looked down at the young girl in his arms, he felt a greater call…a call to save a life.

Lifting his head, the young soldier faced his comrades.

"You two go. You can tell the commander that we got separated."

The two soldiers looked at him with disbelief but nodded when they saw that there was no changing his mind.

As they walked away, the soldier notice something glittering around her neck. As he looked closer he saw that it was a gold chain. He grasped it and found a small pendant attached. A closer look revealed three words engraved on it:

TOGETHER IN PARIS.

He gently took the pendant from around her neck and placed it safely in his chest pocket.

No sooner did he do this that a soft moaning sound came from the girl.

He looked down and saw her slowly open her bright blue eyes. The girl looked at him in her half conscience state, her vision blurred as she tried to focus on the man in front of her.

The soldier smiled, trying to comfort the girl.

"Hello," he said softly.

The girl looked around. She weakly opened her mouth.

"Who…w….where…" she stammered.

"It's going to be okay. You had an accident, but I'm here to help."

The soldier gently lifted her up and carried her in his arms.

"Where do you live? Is your family close by?"

The girl paused. "I…I don't know….," she said weakly. "I…don't remember…"

A look of shock swept over the soldier's face.

"This is worse than I thought…," he muttered as he tried to hail a vehicle.

"Do you at least have a name?"

The girl tried to think, but felt herself start to fade again. The soldier held her as she slouched in her arms. As the girl began slipping out of conciseness, she faintly muttered.

"A…An….Ana…"

Her eyes closed gently.