Journey To Tobolsk: part 1

He still knew, of course, that she was a princess (Nicholas and his abdication notwithstanding). He still knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't be doing this. But, just as he had stunned her into silence by this simple action of drawing her into his arms, holding onto her in such an overly familiar way without asking or even giving the slightest indication he meant to do it, her accusation that he was in love with her eldest sister had shocked him just as deeply.

How could she possibly think, even for a minute, he was in love with Olga Romanov? What on earth gave her that impression? She really was crazy!

Wasn't it obvious that, in another life where there was no royalty, if he was going to admit he had feelings of more than friendship for any of the Romanov girls, it would have been her? Anastasia. The girl who'd gotten him into trouble and yet brought him so much joy as a child. The girl who'd grown, though she didn't seem to know it, into quite a lovely young woman in her own right.

Dimitri was fond of her sisters, sure, but his love for them was like his love for Alexei. It was pure, harmless, brotherly. He didn't secretly want to touch them.

Maybe that was it. Maybe, in reining himself in with Anastasia, always worried he'd go too far, he'd been too distant.

But that was a good thing, wasn't it? That was what needed to be done... Right?

Yet, paradoxically, he wanted her to know the truth. He couldn't have her thinking he was snubbing her, not for propriety's sake, but because he wanted someone else just as high above the salt.

Dimitri had never really been good at expressing his feelings. This left him with few options, and he took one he knew he was going to regret but at the time saw no way around.

Anastasia still in his arms, he tilted his head, leaned in, and pressed his lips firmly against hers.

Her eyes widened, then closed. She started to respond naturally. Even though she'd never been kissed like that before, the gesture was not difficult to return. Especially since this was something she'd wanted since the last time they'd been alone in the ballroom together. Now it would be a beautiful memory. One last good thing to happen to her in this magical room.

The best yet, in fact.

However, she'd barely started to kiss him back when he pulled away, looking guilty. Apparently the moment was far too sweet to last.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, lips still tingling.

Dimitri let go of her and shook his head. "We should go."

She nodded mutely. What else could she expect him to say? She knew him too well to expect him to profess undying love for her. Or even so much as explain himself.

At least, if nothing more, Anastasia now had reassurance that he wasn't in love with somebody else.


"Papa, when can we go?" whispered Maria tiredly. "Aren't they ready yet? Is there something wrong? They've kept us waiting for hours now."

"There's some delay, Mashka my dear," sighed Nicholas, stroking his beard anxiously. "I'm sure it will be sorted soon."

"I'm scared," she added, still whispering.

Olga, giving up her seat on the small wooden bench she'd been sharing with Alexei (and, by default, Dimitri, whose shoulder Alexei was dozing against), urged Maria to take it. "It will be all right," she told her second youngest sister softly as they switched places. "Just try not to bother Papa so much. He's worried, too. It's wearing him to a shadow – the guards arguing about what time we're meant to leave, with no more grace than if they were moving a few dogs..."

Asleep next to the ex-tsarevich's suitcase, Pooka snorted and rolled over.

Anastasia was sitting on her own suitcase. She chuckled at Pooka's timing, her eyes drifting from her dog to Dimitri for a moment. He smiled awkwardly back at her and gestured down at Alexei's slumbering form, half-shrugging with his free shoulder.

Blushing, she looked away.

Any mushy thoughts on her mind were interrupted by two commanding officers of the guard bursting into the dead quiet room.

One was scowling while the other looked resigned.

The resigned one stood with his hands behind his back as he spoke. "Romanovs, you are to be transported in thirty minutes. I hope you have packed everything you will need, because your rooms are already sealed and photographed. You are not permitted to return to them."

As if to reassure herself, Anastasia tapped the bulge in her coat pocket that was her music box.

She knew she wouldn't have left it, her grandmother's gift having been the first thing she'd made sure was ready to take along to Tobolsk, but there was something so frightening about the finality of it all and the grim look on the officer's drained face that left her feeling as if she had forgotten something important and beloved. Something she would not remember until it was too late. But, as long as she had her family, the small remainder of loyal servants (like Lili, Dimitri, and Botkin), her dog, and her music box, losing anything else – no matter how precious – would be bearable. They were all together; that was what truly mattered.

"We have already been waiting here for nearly five hours," Tatiana said boldly, glancing down at her pale-faced Mama with pity and then darting her eyes back to the officer coldly. "And yet we were told not to be a minute late."

"Tatiana–" Olga tried.

But her sister was not to be stopped. "One of your men scolded my youngest sister." Here she turned and nodded at Anastasia. "Scolded her as if we couldn't manage it – she is our sister after all, not his, I'd like to point out – for lingering in the ballroom with my brother's companion when she ought to have been here waiting."

Anastasia felt her face growing hot. Tatiana had no idea of what they'd – she and Dimitri – been doing in that ballroom, only that they'd been there too long for the guard's tastes. She wondered if maybe Olga knew – or guessed – though. She had to of suspected something was up when Anastasia began talking to her and looking at Dimitri again.

"Need I remind you," the scowling officer cut in, "that you are all still under arrest? We do not answer to you. You are foolish to confuse us with your former servants and cossacks. Those days are over. Long over. And I will not have you speak out at us like that again. Things could become very unpleasant for you if you did. Understand?"

"Is that a threat?" Nicholas growled, eyes flaming with sudden uncharacteristic anger. "Are you threatening my daughter?"

The resigned officer stepped between the scowling one and Nicholas. "Please be calm and patient, Comrade Romanov. We are sorry for any inconvenience, but this has not been an easy trip for us to arrange either. My men are all as tired as your family is."

"Come here, my darling," said Alexandra, motioning with her hand for Tatiana come crouch beside her. She would not dignify either of the guards with the slightest glance of acknowledgment, focusing only on her favorite daughter.

"One half hour!" boomed the scowling guard, storming away.

Maria shuddered at the sound of his retreating feet. Pooka growled in his sleep.

"Horrible man," muttered Alexandra, reaching for Tatiana's hand and squeezing gently.

The resigned guard sighed. In another time, he might have bowed respectfully, as if in apology, but he only blinked at them pityingly and left the same way as the other guard had.


A long wait followed by an insult from a disgruntled officer was not the worst the Romanovs would have to endure while beginning their journey to Tobolsk. Far worse came in the form of Lili being grabbed by two guards and yanked roughly back as she was trying to board the train.

In front of her, Maria had slipped, and she'd just helped the girl straighten herself out and go join her sisters, preparing to follow, when she felt strong hands grasp her by the shoulders and waist. She was so frightened her mouth opened wide, as if to scream, but no sound could come out.

"Lili!" cried Maria, whirling around. "Anastasia, get Mama; they're not letting Lili come with us! They're taking her somewhere!"

Anastasia ran down the length of the car and returned with a furious-faced Alexandra. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Your former lady-in-waiting is being arrested," the guards told her gruffly. "We advise you not to resist, or there will be trouble."

"You cannot simply take away a member of my family and threaten me into silence as you drag them off to heaven only knows where!" exclaimed the ex-tsarina, taking a step off the train. "On what charges do you take her from us?"

"That is no concern of yours."

"But," said Maria, shakily, "we're all prisoners, aren't we? Isn't she still under arrest if she's with us? Can't we have her along all the same? What harm could it do?"

"We have our orders, miss." The guard who spoke these words had a slightly gentler tone with Maria. "We are to send you lot off, and take the lady-in-waiting in hand."

"But you can't take her!" shouted Alexandra desperately, wringing her hands together until her knuckles turned white. "You can't!"

"Control yourself, Madam!" The guard callously raised a bayonet and bared his teeth just the slightest bit.

Anastasia couldn't help but think she'd never heard anyone say 'Madam' like that – as though it were the harshest of insults – before.

Tatiana and Olga appeared behind their mother, stretching out their hands helplessly in Lili's direction. Tears streamed freely down Olga's cheeks. Don't leave us, don't leave us, Lili... Their eyes were burning with the words they were dying to shout out but couldn't.

Besides, even if they could, what difference would it make? Lili was in no control over her own fate now. It might have felt like her deserting them, but it wasn't her fault. If given a choice, if these horrible guards weren't taking her away (maybe forever!), she'd have followed them, not only to Tobolsk, but to the very ends of the earth.

"Goodbye, my dearest ones!" wept Lili over her shoulder, calling louder the further they pulled her away. "Be strong, my dears! Be strong! I love you! I will come to you, when they let me go. I promise! Wherever you are, my dear family, I will come!"

"Good...bye..." breathed Maria pitifully, crying so hard now she had brought on herself a bad case of the shakes and hiccups.

Tatiana's arm slipped around Maria. "You heard her, Mashka," she whispered. "You heard her. She's coming after us. Lili is simply coming along later. That's what we have to think, to be brave for Mama until Lili's with us again."

For a terrible moment, Anastasia wondered if they would make up some reason to arrest Dimitri 'on orders' too. True, he had only been a kitchen boy, whereas Lili had a title – however minimal – before the revolution.

All the same, a companion to a tsarevich was not completely different from a Tsarina's lady-in-waiting...

If they took him, on top of taking Lili, Anastasia would have felt an anger that rivaled any she'd ever felt in her life. Just the thought of it made her blood boil. It wasn't only her own feelings for Dimitri she was thinking of; it was how alone her little brother would be without him. Dimitri had been with Alexei too long to be taken from him when he was most vulnerable.

But, no, here was Dimitri now, climbing aboard, helping carry Botkin's medicine bag and two of the smaller suitcases that had not already been loaded.

Anastasia held her breath, watching for the guards' reaction. They were not grasping him as they'd grasped Lili; they were letting him come. She let the breath out.

"I saw what happened," Dimitri told her as they all walked to their cars, Maria still sniffling despite trying to do as Tatiana said and be brave for their Mama. "I'm so sorry."

"How can they do this to us?" snapped Anastasia. "Lili's never hurt anyone in her life! It's just spite, that's all it is."

Dimitri nodded glumly. He wanted to say something – even if it was just a wisecrack – but nothing came to him. Lili being taken like this was just too unfair, even in his eyes. He'd never realized how much he liked Lili until now, even if she'd never shown him any particular fondness.

She'd always just sort of been there...

Now he saw how much that meant to all the grand duchesses and their mother. Now he saw the sheer amount of selfless love Lili had always had for the Romanov family.

She just might have loved them even more than he did.

And that was saying an awful lot.


"I can't believe they took Lili," Alexei whispered to Bartok, who was lying on his pillow. "Maybe they're going to separate the rest of us, too, when we get to Tobolsk. Or sooner." He clenched his jaw, fighting back both childish tears and a yawn. When he released it again, his eyes streamed silent rivers. "I don't want to be separated from Ana, Bartok." He wanted to stay with his whole family – especially his favorite sister – forever. "I don't want them to take me away because I'm sick."

"Master..."

Alexei snuggled deeper into the pillow, scooting closer to Bartok so that his nose was almost touching the little white bat. "They could, you know. If they can take Lili away for no reason, they could take me away because of my haemophilia."

"With all due respect, Master," said Bartok, tilting his head. "You almost took yourself away."

"At least that felt like a choice," Alexei said softly. A bad one, yes, one he knew he must never repeat, certainly, but a choice all the same. "I feel like everything's being taken. I'm scared to sleep, almost. Afraid I'll wake up and find the guards moved me..."

"Don't be scared," Bartok told him, sitting up on the pillow. "You've got old Bartok watching out for you." One of his large white ears did a half turn, listening. "And I tell you what, there's nothing coming to get you right now. Perfectly okay to sleep."

"The guards..."

"Don't you worry none about the guards." Bartok rose to his feet now, bouncing on the pillow dramatically. "They come to take you away from the others, and I'll give them a ha, then a hi-ya!" He kicked up one foot and flapped his wings. "And I'll kick them, Master."

Alexei smiled sadly. "I wish I could pretend this was just a family vacation, off someplace nice."

"You can." Bartok sighed and put his head back down next to his master's nose. "You can sleep now and dream of Livadia."

"Maybe we'll meet there, on the dreamland road to the Crimea," Alexei murmured, his eyes half-closed now. "You, me, Dimitri, and Ana. And our dream-souls can play together all night while the train takes our bodies to Tobolsk."


"What are you doing?" Dimitri slid open the door to the train compartment Anastasia was supposed to be asleep in.

Instead of sleeping, she was kneeling forward on her seat to peek out the window at the full moon spreading its pale-colored glow over the Russian snow-capped countryside.

She glanced back at him. "Nothing. Be quiet."

"The guards said we aren't supposed to look out the windows," Dimitri whisper-hissed urgently. "We're supposed to be a red cross train."

"And let me guess," Anastasia said, raising an eyebrow. "You haven't been looking out your window when you think no one's watching."

"It's different for me," he reminded her. "No one in Russia knows my face from a postage stamp."

"There's nobody to recognize me out there." Anastasia gestured with her chin. "It's almost four in the morning and we're in the middle of nowhere."

"The guards will still get angry," he said, swallowing hard. "If they wake up and see what you've been up to."

She sighed and sat back, slumping down into the seat. "I miss the palace already."

"It was a place we once lived." Dimitri cleared his throat, trying to sound tough, like nothing so trivial as being taken out of some mere building could hurt him. "End of story."

Anastasia blinked back tears and clenched her jaw. If he was going to be like that, she was not about to show weakness in front of him.

"Where's Maria?" He changed the subject. After all, it was strange to see Anastasia sleeping alone. She and Maria had shared everything – from rooms to bedtimes – her whole life.

"Sleeping with Mama and Papa," Anastasia explained. "Mostly for Mama's sake. She's distraught without Lili, and Papa just sits up and smokes." She shuddered a little at the memory of the darkening rings under her papa's eyes from lack of sleep. "Tatiana offered, but she's too tall for the cot in their compartment."

Avoiding her eyes, Dimitri pushed back his cuticles with his thumbnail.

"Why are you here?" she suddenly asked.

He shrugged.

"You know Maria's a heavy sleeper," she realized slowly, smiling. "And that I'm not."

"I'm a heavy sleeper," he said, shrugging again.

"But you're not sleeping."

"Look, my coming to see you has nothing to do with what happened in the ballroom."

Her smile waned a little. "Oh?"

"Actually, if you were still up...I..."

"Yes?" She raised both eyebrows expectantly.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. "I wanted to apologize."

"Apologize?"

"If I ever pull you in like that again, I want you to promise me you'll slap me or push me away."

She frowned. "Why?"

"Because it's not proper." Speaking of not proper, he realized this was the first time he'd ever been alone with her dressed in pajamas since she was ten.

"What's 'not proper' is how infuriating you are half the time," Anastasia snorted. "We barely kissed."

He rolled his eyes. "And since when are you an expert on kissing?"

Anastasia folded her arms across her chest and glowered.

"Look, I'm trying to help," he sighed. "We're never going to be together, and you seem to have a...crush...shall we say? On me... I just-"

"I have a crush on you?" Anastasia spluttered, jumping up to her feet. How dare he! How dare he just calmly reduce whatever was happening between them, feelings she knew were – on her end, anyway – real enough, to a silly schoolgirl crush? Why did she even like Dimitri? He was so stupid! "Please just remove yourself from my sight."

In a tone somewhere between mocking and honestly compliant, he murmured, "Your highness," managed a half-bow, and left her standing there alone in the utter silence that always engulfs the world at four in the morning.

Gritting her teeth, she twisted her right index finger in the chain of her Together In Paris necklace. She kept on twisting, looping in tighter and tighter, until she felt the chain impressing itself into her skin.

It was a more than welcome distraction. For, being left behind in the empty compartment was worse, somehow, than leaving the sealed up palace had been.

How on earth had Dimitri managed to reject her once, then un-reject her, only to come in to her like this and reject her all over again? Anastasia was growing more than a little tired of this endless cycle of nonsense.

If he ever did try to kiss her again, maybe she really would slap him.


After traveling several days by train, the Romanovs and the servants that had not been taken from them (as poor Lili had) were escorted – in hard wooden carts – by the most heavily armed of guards to a chilly port, waiting for the arrival of a boat called the Rus.

"Wherever is your fur hat, Baby?" Alexandra's eyes darted to Alexei's momentarily bare head in panic. "You'll freeze without it." Especially, she thought, with his short hair, which was taking so much longer to grow back than his sisters'...

With almost comically perfect timing, Maria's teeth began to chatter and she huddled closer to Anastasia and Olga.

"Dimitri, child," said Nicholas kindly. "I think Alyosha has forgotten his hat back in the cart. Could you please run and fetch it for us before the guards remove it?"

The fact that he took off for the hat immediately – so like a servant obeying his Tsar – ruffled the feathers of the closest guards, one of whom stuck out his foot to trip him.

Dimitri landed face-first in a slush pit of snow and mud.

Nicholas' expression was full of sympathy. He had not expected the poor fellow to come to grief with such a simple request. Having been a tsar for so long, albeit not a particularly commanding one, he wasn't used to his orders being obeyed resulting in bad consequences for those who did so. When his beloved Sunny started fretting about Alexei's missing hat, Nicholas had to admit, he had not thought his request through. Better it would have been – in the most humblest of tones – to perhaps ask one of the guards to do it. They would have grumbled and mocked, but they wouldn't have instantly decided Dimitri was a worthy target.

It worried Nicholas to think that – if they took to venting more of their feelings toward the old monarchy on his son's companion – this could escalate into a dangerous situation for the unfortunate young man. Lili, poor soul, was almost safer in whatever miserable prison they had hauled her off to.

Although Dimitri chafed bitterly inside, wanting nothing more than to pull one of the guards down into the slush beside him, he settled on shooting them a stony expression that clearly said I won't forget this, and continuing on his way to get the hat.

He did make it to the cart in time, but only just. And this resulted in more boorish laughter from the guards.

Maria was confused and shocked. "Tatiana, I don't understand why they're being this way. Some of these men – these very same men – were not so awful to us back at the palace." Yes, the commanding officers were harsh – they'd been cruel about arranging their travel, and she'd witnessed that plain as day – but the fellows tripping Dimitri were... Well, they were common soldiers. Honest, overall good soldiers just trying to do their job... Or so she'd believed. Until now.

"Don't be silly, Mashka. Certainly you knew they didn't like Papa?" Tatiana replied, her tone full of exasperation.

"Even little Boris with the bad leg?" Maria asked, pointing to a soldier she had conversed with several times during their house arrest. "He's always been nice to me; his jokes–"

"For God's sake, Mashka!" interjected Olga, not out of true anger but in surprise at the degree of her sister's naivity. "Who do you think your 'dear little Boris' blames for his bad leg?"

"Not...Papa...?" she faltered.

"Yes, Papa," Olga told her.

"And you must have noticed Boris was pointing and smiling when Dimitri was tripped," Tatiana added.

Maria had noticed, but had been unable to absorb this information. Her heart didn't want to believe it. She didn't love Boris, not like she loved her family, but she was fond of him. She was fond of many of their guards. That was why she'd asked if they were were all coming with them to Tobolsk, and had been disappointed when her papa said no.

"Look," Anastasia jumped in, her tone bitter, "just because somebody's handsome in a uniform isn't a reason to trust them. Even people you think you know can let you down." For some reason – perhaps because Maria had begun to cry – nobody noticed Anastasia's eyes dart over to Dimitri at that last bit.

Dimitri felt like someone was reaching into his chest and squeezing the breath and blood out of his lungs and heart. He was so damned angry at those guards, yet just one betrayed look from Anastasia that no one else saw was enough to deflate his rage.

Sucking his teeth, he handed Alexei's hat to Nicholas, who clapped it over his son's head in a lopsided fashion.

One of Alexei's ears peeked out and Alexandra reached over and covered it, straightening the hat. She did her best not to let her hand make contact with the little white bat on his shoulder.

Pulling away from his tight-lipped mother, Alexei heard a fog-horn sound.

"Well," he said, nuzzling his cheek against Bartok, "the boat's here."

AN: Review please.