I think I'm most famous for my one shots because I don't have the get-go to ever finish a story.
So, here's a little something I cooked up from the Don Bluth Anastasia movie. I wanted to expose a little more of the real history of the Russian Revolution and there after. At the end of the movie, it's implied that Dimitri and Anya go back to Russia. I can tell you now, the Commies would have executed them both, and they would have known what they looked like because of newspapers. So, this is a story about what happened once the two eloped.
Odnazhdy Dekabrya
Her Imperial Highness, the Grand Duchess Anastasia, youngest daughter of Tsar Nicholas II, a princess of Russia, got off her knees and brushed the dirt off her dress. These days, she was the Grand Duchess of Nothing. These days, she tended the garden outside of her crappy, run down apartment and cooked for the no account man she had made the mistake of eloping with while he worked at conning the good people of Munich.
Anya sighed. If she had know that her eloping with Dimitri would end in her being a fishwife living in a filthy, run-down apartment with roaches and rats, she would never have done it.
Of course, she wasn't really Dimitri's wife. He hadn't bothered to marry her. Day after day, she would look down on her left ring finger where a cheap, almost worthless engagement ring sat, and wonder why he thought it prudent to propose to her, but never have a wedding, never actually get married.
For awhile, the pair actually got along, really loved each other. Dimitri had tried to go straight for his literal princess bride-to-be.
But once things started going downhill, Dimitri had given up hope of a job, and with it, the thought of actually marrying Anya. He had reverted to conning innocent people.
And it didn't help that Germany was now as bad for a tsarist loyal couple (particularly the daughter of the deceased emperor) as the now Union of Soviet Socialist Republics was. War was brewing for Europe again, and Germany was at the head of it all.
And because of Stalin, the evil man now head of Anastasia's home land, Hitler, the horrible man who headed the Nazis, hated Russians. Yes, that did make Anya's life a great deal harder.
But that didn't mean that Dimitri had to go back to being reclusive and essentially unfeeling. No, that was highly unfair to the woman he claimed to love.
This caused the couple to argue all the time. Frequently their neighbors would hear them yelling at each other in Russian and yell back at them in turn. It was a never ending cycle. Something that had started so beautiful was suddenly ugly and Anya found herself hating the decision to leave Paris and her grandmamma.
Sighing, Anya gathered her gardening tools in one hand and her basket of her harvest in the other. Dimitri would be home soon, and he hated seeing her dirty and looking like she did when they first met. Now that he knew she really was the Grand Duchess, he liked her to wear her hair down and to look presentable at all times. When he could do it without fear of the Nazis finding out, Dimitri liked to brag that he was engaged to the only living Royal Romanov. When he brought company over, she was his 'Darling Anastasia' and he doted on her. But once his friends were gone, he yelled and yelled and yelled. "Anna, why can't you be more poised?" or "Anna, you were very rude to them the whole time!"
To which she would yell about being called Anna. It was either Anya or Anastasia, and he should remember that. She was Russian, and she would proudly wear her heritage.
But Dimitri always yelled back that they had to be German now that they lived in Germany, that if the Nazis found out…
This was always the point where the would-be princess stood up her tallest and yelled her loudest. "If you want us to be secret Russians, than stop introducing me to your friends as the Grand Duchess!" she would scream at the top of her lungs.
Outspoken Anya; Impish Anastasia. They were one in the same, and she was always true to herself. But Dimitri, apparently, wanted her to be someone more than just the orphaned princess of a long forgotten tsarist Russia. He wanted her to pretend she actually lavished in the indulgences of the Romanov fortune she surely had stowed away somewhere, act like a princess.
He knew that she didn't remember any of her childhood that she hadn't gone over. Once it was talked about, or there was a sight or smell she recalled, it came back to her. But she rarely remembered anything before it was brought up. This tended to annoy the Russian con man, and sometimes, when he got angry enough, he would throw things, like lamps, around the apartment.
He never hit Anya, but he had come close a few times. She constantly reminded him that she could simply leave him, and then where would he be, without his Darling Anastasia? This silenced his outrage, for the moment. He didn't realize that she was mostly bluffing, because going out into pre-World War II world by herself, as a woman and a supposed to be dead Russia royal was about as bad an idea as they came.
She could go back to her grandmamma, but that felt like she was only using the Dowager when she needed something. And frankly, she was more at home in the run down apartment than in the fancy house in Paris. No, she wasn't satisfied with her current state of living, but the grandeur of court life was too much. Somewhere in the middle would have been nice.
And secretly, Anya hoped that maybe, just maybe, if she and her fiancé were living more comfortable, than maybe he would really love her.
Of course, that was ridiculous. Anya knew that things would change for a few months, and Dimitri would treat her like she deserved to be treated, and dote on her. But soon after, the anger would sink back in and she would be miserable again.
XXX
That night, Anya lay in bed next to Dimitri and stroked his hair as he slept. She couldn't explain to herself why she loved him. Perhaps, she thought, she couldn't let go of him because he had saved her from death, and reunited her with her family. Somewhere, she argued with herself, Dimitri really did care about her, Anya, not the Grand Duchess Anastasia. He loved her for who she was, not what she was.
Gently, Anya shook Dimitri. "Please wake up." She whispered.
Dimitri rolled over and moaned groggily. He sat up on his elbows and looked at Anya through half opened eyes. "What?"
Anya continued to stroke Dimitri's silky brown hair. "I love you, but we can't keep this up. I'm a princess. Marry me or I'm leaving. Things around here have got to change."
Dimitri looked at Anya speculatively. "What do you mean?"
Anya sighed as she kissed Dimitri's temple, trying to be calm. "We have to stop. No more yelling. No more arguing. We have to behave like adults."
Dimitri rolled over, tired. "Can't we talk about this later?"
Anya rolled back over, wanting to cry. "Yeah, that's fine."
Anya wasn't sure that the talk was going to do anything, but she packed her bags and smiled at the crappy but empty apartment. She and Dimitri were moving to Paris to be with the Dowager Empress. Anya crossed her fingers, hoping that this would turn over a new leaf. She and Dimitri were to be married in the spring. Anya was happy, for the first time in a long time.
END
So, I picked Munich because I was watching something about Anna Anderson the other day and it said something about many Russians living in Germany. Munich just happened to be a random German city that I knew.
So, short and concise. Anya is a bit OOC, but I couldn't make it work without it. Please review, but don't flame. If you don't like the story, don't review. If you think it just need improvement, let me know.