Disclaimer: I do not own the movie Anastasia or Vampire Diaries; all rights go to the rightful owners. I do not own any of the lines from Anastasia that I have in this fanfiction.

Chapter Six-

The bus stopped a block from the ship; with the men carrying the bags, Lena, Damon, and Alaric made their way there. The sun was high in the early morning sky–as their journey to the docks had taken them into the night–and Lena couldn't help but have the sense that the day held much promise.

She had been taught everything about both 'her' extended family and her parents, along with the court; with her acquired confidence she didn't feel so nervous anymore. It was a nice feeling, and her smile seemed to show as radiant as the sun.

The threesome had their supper together–a simple fish soup accompanied by a slice of rye bread–and talked about much as they dined: Lena's success, the upcoming meeting between she and the Duchess, and even about the orphanage. As the sun set, Lena could feel her excitement-fueled energy wearing thin, and she had to excuse herself. She had made it nearly to her room when Damon came down the hall, calling her name. She faced him curiously.

"Here–I bought you a dress," he told her proudly, holding it out for her to take.

Lena studied it for a moment, eyebrows drawn together. An amused smile appeared on her lips. "A dress?" The thing was a shade of ruby, accented by a white collar and sleeves. It was hideous and she knew it couldn't possibly fit on her. "It looks like a tent."

He snorted and grinned. "Come on. Just put it on." He stuffed it into her hands and walked away with a last glance behind himself and a shake of his head. She smiled and lifted the dress as she entered her room. So much for sleep.

"A dress…" she murmured, laughing to herself as her puppy snuffed at her heels. What could she do with this?

Above deck, 'Ric and Damon played a rousing game of checkers. The former called checkmate and Damon rubbed his neck. He'd never been too good at this game; why he kept playing only to lose was beyond him. Alaric glanced up at the sound of a throat cleared. Damon's eyes were still glued to the board as he attempted to come up with a strategy to begin the next round. He was pulled from his train of thought, however, when his friend jumped up and exclaimed, "Marvelous!" Damon turned to see Lena, wearing his dress. Not his dress, but the dress he'd bought. For her. Damon's thoughts stumbled over one another. One came into focus, though–she looked beautiful.

Lena had tied back her hair into a white bow, made from the fabric, clearly, that she had cut from that of the billowing dress sleeves. She'd removed the collar and put her usual belt around the waist, accentuating her slim hips. She twirled and took Alaric's outstretched hand. "And now," he said, "you are dressed for a ball."

In front of them, Damon was just then standing, ever so slowly, as he stared in awe at Lena. How had he not noticed the way her eyes perfectly matched the hazel of her hair, so dark against the red of the dress? He wanted to snap out of it, but couldn't seem to think of how to go about doing so.

"And you will learn to dance as well," Alaric was saying. Matthias skidded by and jumped onto Damon's former chair as Alaric pulled Damon by the arm towards Lena.

"Damon, you will teach her," Alaric said firmly. Damon smiled, somewhat awkwardly, as he managed, "I'm not very good at it." Alaric rolled his eyes; it weren't as though he himself could teach Elena–he had to be able to see how she was doing, he told Damon, and give pointers! He stepped back and counted off beats as the two joined hands, her right on his shoulder, his left on her waist.

"One, two, three—No, no, stop. Lena, you don't lead. Let him." She blushed and nodded, setting her hand in Damon's.

Okay, Damon told himself, stop acting like such a wuss. It's Lena. "That dress is really beautiful."

She tilted her head, those eyes of hers bright as they looked up into his. "You think so?"

He nodded and, feeling his confidence returning, they spun as he said, "Yes. I mean, it was nice on the hanger but… it looks even better on you. You should wear it."

"I am wearing it," she said.

And there it went, flying off the ship into the water. Damon felt as though if he squinted enough, he could just barely see it. "Right, of course." He managed a laugh to shake it off. What. The. Hell. "I'm just trying to give you a, um—"

"A compliment?" Lena suggested, mildly entertained. Why was he so nervous?

Damon smiled and, his blue eyes roaming her face, murmured, "Of course, yes."

Alaric watched this exchange, a sudden thought coming forth as Damon twirled Lena, a large smile on her lips and his own. She was radiant. She emanated beauty and wit, and he had taught her everything she needed to know to strengthen what was already there. Damon, his best friend of many years… How had he not seen that they perfectly complemented each other? He had planned it all, but he had forgotten the most important aspect of any young person's life–romance. Matthias jumped into 'Ric's lap as Alaric said to himself, "I shouldn't have let them dance…"

Neither Damon nor Lena noticed this. "I'm feeling a little dizzy. Kind of light headed," the latter said.

Damon nodded as they came to a stand still, frozen. "Me too. Maybe we should stop."

Lena smiled a small smile. "We already have." The sun was low in the sky, turning it the low red of her dress, and he couldn't seem to see anything but Lena. It was a strange knowledge, and he couldn't process it. "Lena, I…" He had the newfound want to lean forward and kiss her–but he couldn't. There was a plan. He had to think of everyone, not just himself. For once.

"You're doing fine," he settled, giving her one last glance before dropping his gaze and moving past her.

Lena, evidently disappointed, stood still, wanting to call to him but not sure what she could even say.