In tragic events, in which we are intimately involved, we put truth to, if only a little, to the proverb 'hind-sight is 20/20'. Russia isn't so sure that it is 20/20. When is anything ever that clear though? But, still yet, people look back and relish pointing fingers at time A, person V, and cause T, and if it had just changed that, it ever would have happened.
Russia's October Revolution spiral of events, he feels, started when Nickolas chose Alexandria as his wife.
Hemophilia, it was such a small thing, to most people outside royal bloodlines, that is.
It was a small thing, a small chance, that Alexandria had the disease, which queen Victoria was only rumored to have, and that it would be carried on. Alexandria was such a sweet woman, beautiful. A good mother, a good friend, and dogged, among other traits.
A poor ruler.
As a person, Russia had loved her, dotted on her. Her little grand duchesses, Olga, Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasia, each angels with endearing quarks. Each made Russia proud, each looking to carry forth Russia golden age.
Til little Alexei. Their weakness, in too many ways. If the Czar and the Czarina had been stronger, if Alexandria hadn't had such blind faith, trusted the wrong people, and if Nickolas hadn't been willing to give Alexandria the moon and stars, anything to make her happy, even decimate their court, their friends, for her holy man.
How, when they were mourning, Alexandria, unable to call it the end, asked him, her martyred saint, how to save Alexei from death. And when, after recalling Alexei's doctors, his swelling eased, how he lived, and Alexandria fell that final step into blindness for Rasputin, her son's savior, and Alexandria's savior. How, despite, many good deeds, he corrupted Russia's court.
When *Grand Duke *Dmitri begged Nickolas to see reasons, to see the event under their nose, to relinquish some power, and try to fix the damage done, to be turned away with words meant to placate, and whom merely worried. Then, when Rasputin was murdered, in a attempt to reverse mounting affairs, only to pushed it over the brink. How Russia's revolution was started, the tip of Russia's ice berg.
Russia fingers hold a small paper sunflower, folded so long ago by tiny hands, and thinks of these things.
Russia lingers upon these moments, wondering if things had been little different, if things would have changed, have been better. But in another way, Russia would hate for things to have turned out different. Those days have shaped Russia for good. He doesn't know if it's for the better, but he has been changed for good.
Notes:
*It may have been his father, and beyond that I think I got his name wrong...
Other than that, most of this is my own views, and based off of what I know. I'll most likely double check who it was went the Czar tomorrow.
Also, sorry for the lack of plot... I've not written a fan-fiction before, and was more than a little leery of posting this, but I'm pretty sure I just sorta needed to go out on a limb and post it anyways, else wise, I'd never do it...
Thank you for putting up with this, but I'd like to make a request before you go find something better written; If you could give me imput on what to do again, and what not to ever, ever do again, that'd be beyond amazing.
-Vavara