A/N: Hello! I am starting this story because I have had this idea for years. I know I have other projects and they won't be abandoned, but I feel like I need to explore this story idea.

This will be a plot based fan fiction that will eventually lead to and feature Thiam as the love story. Depending on how much you guys want will determine how much the romance is featured. So comments welcome! :)

Other Teen wolf ships and characters will appear as well.

Also, this book may contain some mature themes such as sexual acts and violence. I am going to try and do my my very best to put trigger warnings on any triggering content. If I ever forget anything or did not warn about a potentially triggering topic, PLEASE MESSAGE ME, so that I can correct that IMMEDIATELY.

So, with all of that said, chapter one will be posted today.

Trigger Warning: Violence and Murder (I will mark the section)

April 15, 1910
Peterhof Palace

The screams could be heard from the other room. The Dowager Empress Maria sat uneasily, playing with the rings on her finger out of nerves. However, she tried to keep a brave face, for she had five grandchildren to look after. It was hard though, pretending everything was fine, when they very well might not have been. Maria's worry was cut off when her granddaughter, Anastasia, asked, "Is he almost here yet?"

Maria smiled at her eight year old granddaughter, whose eyes were filled with hope and innocence. "We should be meeting him any minute now, my darling Anastasia." A promise that Maria could not necessarily keep. Her daughter-in-law was old, meaning the labor would be more difficult, assuming the baby even survived it. It was a miracle that Empress Alexandra was even pregnant again, and the empire was hoping for a healthy son. Maria already had a grandson, Alexei, who was heir to throne, but the poor child had hemophelia. This meant that his life could be cut short at any moment, they needed a spare heir.

Anastasia looked as if she were going to say something, but what cut off when the door opened, and Maria's daughter, Olga, came out holding the newborn baby. Olga had been in there, comforting her sister-in-law through the difficult labor. "Allow me to introduce my nephew," She said happily rocking the child gently, "Grand Duke Konstantin Nikolaevich Romanov. He is healthy, though a bit small, like a little elf prince."

Olga handed the infant to Maria, who was overcome with emotion to meet her newest grandchild. In that moment, the world stopped, and Maria could picture this young child growing up, with her there, every step of the way. She could have not imagined the whirlwind of tragedy that would eventually befall not only her family, but the entire empire.

September 8, 1916

Peterhof Palace

"Grandmother, Auntie, why do you have to go?" The six year old Grand Duke pleaded as he clung to his grandmother's hands as she tried to make her way outside. Konstantin had grown attached to his grandmother and Aunt Olga, and he hated it when they had to leave him.

"Because it is our duty, you must understand," Olga said sweetly to her nephew before crouching down so she was on eye level with him. "We are at war, and we all must do our part to help Russia, but do not fret my little elf prince. Grandmother and I will be back with you before you know it." The feeling of attachment was mutual. Olga loved her nieces and nephews as if they were her own children.

Maria smiled at her grandson, hating leaving him as well, but she could not stay. She pulled him in to hug him tightly, "Do not worry, it is only temporary, i have not forgotten about our trip to Copenhagen." The Dowager Empress was originally from Denmark, and often took trips there. Konstantin loved hearing all of the stories she would tell about her homeland, that he desired to visit there with her. The plan had become somewhat of a shared secret to bond them together.

"You promise?" The Grand Duke asked his grandmother, with a small smile forming at the sound of their future trip together.

"Of course I promise!" She replied happily. Then, she looked around before picking up a quill and a sheet of paper from the nearby desk. She simply wrote "You and I, together in Copenhagen, Love Grandmother". She then folded the paper and handed it to him. "There, now it is in writing, and once something is in writing, it cannot be undone. Keep this with you when you miss me, and think about our trip. Remember, our secret." She winked. She knew Konstantin enjoyed having this trip be something that they shared together. So much of his life was shared with the public of his siblings, but this could be all his.

TRIGGER WARNING

July 16, 1918

The House of Special Purpose in Yekaterinburg, Siberia

Revolution tore through the once grand empire. A series of bad decisions made by the Czar, mixed with economic crash from World War I caused unrest in Russia. Czar Nicholas had been deposed, and the Imperial Family had been shuffled around to different locations for their safety, and so they could not be used as icons by the Imperial sympathizers. Vladimir Lenin's Bolshevik Party sough control of the country, and they had custody of the Czar and his family. Some Romanovs, such as Olga and the Dowager Empress Maria, had been able to escape, but the Czar was not so lucky.

In the middle of the summer night, the guards told the Imperial Family that there was unrest in the town, and that they needed to be moved to the cellar and wait for it to die down. There was a sense of excitement amongst them. There seemed to be hope that this meant the town was turning against the Bolsheviks and that they may rescue the Imperial family. However, all eight year old Konstantin knew, was that it was late at night, and something was wrong. The family marched down into the cellar, which only had one entrance.

Konstantin stood by the wall, uncharacteristically silent. He did not like being underground, and he did not like being in this cellar. Nonetheless, he could not leave as the guards made the entire family, and even some servants, and their family nurse, Melissa, stay in the cellar for an hour or two. It was so long, that they were up past midnight, and the day was now July 17. The silence was broken when a large group of guards came in and the leader stated, "Nicholas of Russia, you and your family are hereby sentenced to death for crimes against the Russian people." Before Nicholas could say anything, the guns went off, and the room became filled with smoke and screams.

Konstantin dropped to the floor, trying to dodge the array of bullets. He saw his father and mother both go down, their lifeless bodies remaining still on the floor. The screams of his sisters persisted though. As the smoke made everything impossible to see, the gunshots stopped for a moment, and Konstantin believed the shots were done, he could use the smoke and make a run out the door. He stood up slowly to make his run, when he heard another shot and one of his sisters fell silent. There were sounds he didn't understand, as the voices of his sisters were silenced forever. Konstantin then felt a sharp pain in his head, as one of the guards hit him with the butt of his gun, causing the child to fall to the floor. All the Grand Duke could see was the guard point and shoot towards his stomach, but thanks to the jewels his mother had sewn in to all of the children's clothes, the bullet barely punctured his skin. Then, it all went black.

He awoke later to the sound of a fire crackling, and he realized that he was in a cart, in the middle of the woods. As he came to, he realized he was surrounded by the corpses of his now dead family. The young child was still to dazed to cry, or scream, or truly respond to the horrifying night he was having. He could still barely move, almost paralyzed from fear, and the bump he'd received. He then noticed a boy, about his age, peeking behind the trees. The two made eye contact, and the boy seemed indecisive about something. Then, the boy began throwing small rocks at the guards and screamed, "Long live the Czar!" In response, the guards, who's judgement had been impaired by having a few drinks before and after the assassinations, began chasing after him.

Konstantin knew he what he had to do. "Good bye my family," he whispered before he rolled out of the cart and fell onto the ground. He knew he could not stop though, or the bad men would get him. He stumbled to his feet and did his best to run into the woods, trying to get as far away as possible. He pulled off his shirt, which was weighing him down due to the sewn in jewels, and threw it aside as he kept running, like his life depended on it. Even at a young age, he knew his life depended on it. He kept running until he stumbled over a tree root, hitting his head and cutting everything to black.

END OF TRIGGERING CONTENT

February 12, 1930

Copenhagen

"For so long I denied it, because," The Dowager Empress began to fight back her tears. She had been so good during the interview. She had kept it together for a long time, but she began getting emotional as she was about to say what she had yet to say out loud. "Because saying it would make it real. However, I must accept reality, my darling Nicky, and my six grandchildren are all dead. Here I sit in Copenhagen, thinking of how Konstantin and I can never be together again."

"Well what do you say about these people, the people who claim they are members of your family?" The journalist asked her as he hurriedly scribbled down every word that came out of her mouth. He did not want to miss a single thing she said. "As I hear there is a woman in Berlin, Anna Tchaikovsky, claiming to be Anastasia, she's even garnered attention from your own family for her claims. Two women in the the Ural mountains claim to be Maria and Anastasia. These are just two examples of a long list of people claiming to be your grandchildren."

"Imposters. Frauds. All of them, trying to profit off of my pain," Maria replied, clenching her fist, getting angry after hearing of these imposters. For a while she believed them, bought in to the idea that one of her precious grandchildren escaped, but in the end, she was always disappointed. She had accepted the fact that her family was dead, and she was ready to live out her life.

"But your Majesty, these rumors persist, where there is smoke there is fire. Bolsheviks guards who have fled Russia even claimed that not all of the bodies can be accounted for. This suggests at least one is missing. Surely there is hope for their survival, perhaps not Anna Tchaikovsky, but someone out there is your grandchild," The journalist insisted, almost wrapped up in the drama and hope of his own story.

"All of the bodies are missing!" The Dowager Empress snapped back. It was true, the Bolsheviks never provided the bodies, instead, they quickly buried them so no one could find them. However, that did not change the fact that they were all dead, there was no way around that, no possible way that any of them could have gotten out. She sighed, feeling guilty about her outburst to the young journalist. "Mr. Stilinski, was it? I can see you are passionate and have done your research, but you must know, that every story has an ending, and this is the ending to the story of my family. They died. I invited you here to tell my thoughts to the world, and honestly I liked your passion for writing, but I did not meet with you to give me false hope."

"With all due respect, it is not the characters in the story who decide when it is over," He told her, and stood up, knowing he probably would be escorted out soon anyway. He could tell this interview had emotionally exhausted the Dowager Empress. "So, as characters in the story of life, we cannot decide when a story is over, so we must live every day like there is more to be told. Thank you Your Majesty for this interview."

February 28, 1933

Berlin

He had been here all his life. At least, all his life that he remembered. All he really knows is that they found him wandering around one day in the middle of no where Russia. Presumed to be one of the many children orphaned during the revolution or the Great War, he was shuffled around orphanages, before finally being sent out of Russia completely to live in Berlin where he had been adopted by a lovely family, the Raekens. They gave him the name Theodore and it stuck. His biological family, whoever they were, did not really matter to him anymore. He had his family, and they were the Raekens. He had no interest in any other family. However, he did have something. Something he never got rid of. Something he held on to, though he did not know why. It was a simple piece of paper, with faded writing on it. It said, "You and I, together in Copenhagen, Love Grandmother." When he was found, the used this paper to track his family, but it was all in vain, so now he just keeps it. Part of him wonders whats in Copenhagen for him, but he always knew he'd never want to leave his parents.

Life always has a plan of its own though. A couple of years back, Theo's father had been murdered by a group of thugs from the new Nazi Party. Seeing as Theo's dad was Jewish, not much was done to find or punish the murderers, but sadly, this was the norm. However, things were shifting in Germany, and anti-semitism was rising like never before. The Nazi Party was now the dominant party in Germany, and their leader, Adolf Hitler was appointed as Chancellor less than a month ago. Theo knew he needed to get out now, while he still could. He was not Jewish, so theoretically he was not a target of persecution. However, since Theo was born in the USSR, many were suspicious that he was a communist, and communists were not welcome in Hitler's Germany. So, his mother saved up as much money as she could in order to send Theo out of Germany.

Theo's mother had connections to a local official who was able to get him the proper travel papers to leave Germany. He did not know how she got these papers exactly, and he did not ask. As he stood at the train station, having said his goodbyes with his mother at home, he pondered where to go. He knew this was likely the last time he would see his mother, so he was not opposed to traveling far. Part of him considered returning to the Soviet Union, and seeing where he came from. Another part of him considered going to France and securing a passage on a boat to the United States. However, as all these ideas raced through his head, his eyes kept returning to the kiosk that listed Copenhagen.

He placed his hand on the shirt pocket that was holding that note from his grandmother, whomever she was. "Whoever gave me this note must have loved me," he said quietly to himself. Pulling out the note, he took a deep breath, "Well grandmother, it looks like we will be in Copenhagen together after all. Whether you know it or not." With Theo needing to leave his mother, he truly had no true purpose to do anything, but perhaps looking for his birth family would fill the void that would form in his heart.

Right as he was stepping up to the ticket station, a boy, or a young man, around Theo's age, but probably a few years younger, bumped into him. The boy was carrying a few papers and dropped them, causing Theo to drop his note. Both of them knelt down hurriedly picking up their belongings while the stranger kept apologizing in German, but with a strange accent, likely British. Soon, they were both back on their way, but Theo noticed he must have picked up the wrong paper. This was not his note at all, instead it was a manuscript or some kind of article.

Part of him panicked. That letter was the only clue he had to his family, and he wanted it back. However, he soon realized that this document had an address on it, so he would try to go there to get his note back.

Lydia typed away on her typewriter, lost in thought about her task at hand. She was writing yet another letter to the head of the Newspaper explaining that their field journalist, Mr. Stilinski, was still on his trip to Denmark with his interview with the Dowager Empress. As she typed, the door burst open giving her a start. "Dammit Stiles! You can't do that to me when I'm here alone. I didn't even expect you back until tomorrow." She and Stiles had been working together for about six years. Originally, she worked as a receptionist in the newspaper's main office, but when she heard about Mr. Stilinski's fascination with royalty, she admittedly became interested as well. Upon her request, she was made his assistant, and the rest is history.

The problem is, while Stiles is still fascinated with royalty, the rest of the world was not. He had been placed in Germany in order to report on and document the rise of Hitler's Nazi party in Germany. The paper's editors were banking on the fact that this would be big. However, Stiles couldn't let the royalty thing go. Recently, especially, he had been interested in the last of the Russian imperial dynasty. He had even secured an exclusive interview with Anna Anderson, the most famous person to claim to be a Romanov, but the paper wouldn't publish it. "Sorry Lydia, I just needed to make sure I write the stupid article about Hitler that they want me to write. Every week they want another article, but its the same thing over and over again."

"You have to admit," Lydia replied as she finished typing her letter, "What's happening here is truly captivating. They are saying he is going to fix all of Germany's problems. A revived Germany could mean many things, and seeing as we were at war with Germany less than twenty years ago, the American people want to know. This is history Stiles, try to appreciate it."

"I get what you're saying, but I got an interview with Anna Anderson and I just got back from an interview with the Dowager Empress and I bet they still won't publish my article." He scoffed as he plopped down in his chair and began to write. "Speaking of, where is that stupid kid with my manuscript? I am hoping if I write an article about both of my interviews they may end up publishing it."

Lydia sighed, "He is doing his best, ok? Try and be patient with him." As a native New Yorker, Lydia typically was a no nonsense kind of person, but admittedly, she had soft spot for their assistant, and she suspected Stiles did too.

"Why did they even hire him for this job anyway?" Stiles asked, still irritated that his manuscript had not been brought to him yet.

"Because he was already in Europe and he is one of the only applicants that can speak German because you won't bother learning the language," She said sarcastically, "Besides. Don't blame him. This is your fault for leaving the manuscript at your apartment. If it was so important, you would have brought it with you."

The door slowly crept open, "Sorry sir, the whole town is buzzing with activity it seems," the young man said.

Stiles sighed and rubbed his fingers on his temples, "It's fine, I am just glad you got them here. Thank you Liam. Why is the town so active today?"

"The Reichstag building was set on fire last night," Lydia responded dryly, "You would know that if you were here instead of chasing some fairytale in Copenhagen."

"Yeah, the Chancellor is now pushing some kind of legislation through with unprecedented speed," Liam replied eagerly, having heard several people discussing it while he was traversing the busy streets of Berlin. "Hitler says this was a big communist plot to take down the government, so this law will give the government the power to hunt down the communists, or something like that. Things are moving so quickly that the details are not entirely clear." Liam loved politics and history. Thats what drew him to the field of journalism. He loved to view history happen in real time. Originally born in the English country side, the 19 year old let his affluent lifestyle to work for an American news agency. He lucked into the job, and he intended to keep it.

"From what I understand, the people are highly supportive of this decree," Lydia added, knowing that Stiles would need all this information in order to write the article that their company actually wants from them. "In the mean time, the police seem to be gearing up for something big, but no one really knows what. Their story is that their anticipating another communist uprising but rumor has it..." she noticed Stiles was deeply engrossed in flipping through his papers. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Something about Hitler being an ass, that's old news Lydia," Stiles replied almost nonchalantly. "Liam, where the hell is my manuscript for the Anna Anderson article?" He kept quickly flipping through the papers before pulling out a sheet with worn down writing, "And what the hell is this?"