Kia Ora!
As some of you might have noticed, I have finally decided to give this part
a good spell-check, (sorry if I still miss some, lol) and write a proper
starting point for this story!
****
Author: Damia
Email: Damia_1@hotmail.com
Pairing: Buffy/Angel. Xander/Anya. Willow/Tara. Other/Other
Rating: Umm, we shall say PG-13 for the future parts.. which will get rather nasty later on.
Disclaimer: Don't own Buffy. Nuff' said about that. Some characters are mine, none that are introduced in this part though. (For future reference, some of these are Cora, Mr Betran, Folkine, and Serko Vasilev.) The Romanovs belong to nobody.well, except history.
Season: Season 5. (Start)
Spoilers: Dawn's in it, well, will be soon. Riley's in it too, (sorry) but not for long!
Summery: Buffy travels back to 1915, Russia, where she meets the Romanovs, Russia's Imperial Family, which sets of a chain of events that would change a family forever.
Notes: Not many...ok, a few. Just want to say that this story means a lot to me, I've been a fan of the Romanov's for a long, long time and for me, this story is a way of expressing the admiration I have for such an extraordinary family. And to add Buffy to the mix, well! What could be better? Two of my favourite things in one! A big thanx to my biggest fan, Emily, who sits on her computer at 2 in the morning on the other side of the world, following through dreamed up plots with me!
Prologue.
Tsarskoe Selo. St Petersburg, Russia. 1915.
Marie Nicholaievna Romanov smiled and looked out the window down towards the snow-caped ground from her huge three-story bedroom that she shared with her younger
sister of two years, Anastasia. Quickly looking around her dark bedroom to make sure neither
her Mama or Papa were watching, Marie climbed up onto the window seat and with a mighty
heave, pushed the twin French windows wide open, letting the frozen Russian air dance inside.
The light brown haired, 16 year old girl sighed deeply and closed her eyes, feeling the snow
drops fall off the roof of the Alexander Palace and land on her creamy nose. She grinned
wickedly, for she knew if one of her parents found her here catching her death there would be
hell to pay.
She opened her eyes with that thought, gazing with her doe like blue eyes down out into the
deserted streets of Tsarskoe Selo, the lights reflexing off the mighty Palaces the only light that
could be seen in the night sky. Marie shivered, wrapping her French silk nightgown around her
body and tried to forget about the harsh winter's breath as she made her way out of the window
to sit on the ledge, her bare ivory legs dangling off the side.
"Mashka, what are you doing?" came a furious whisper and Marie turned her head gracefully,
regarding her beautiful 14 year old sister in amusement.
"Dear, Ana." Marie told her, giggling. "Are you to tell me you have never ventured out our
magnificent window to watch the moon?"
Anastasia knitted her delicate eyebrows regally, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't get her
in trouble. Marie saw her intention and grinned, beaconing her beloved sister over to her. The
girl let out a sigh of relief, realising she should have known her favourite sister would never tell
their Papa of her adventures.
She frowned. Not like her other sisters, Olga and Tatiana. Anastasia sometimes thought the
two girls soul aim in life was to make her life a misery, always getting her in strive with their
parents...not that Nicholas and Alexandra could ever expect anything else from their
mischievous youngest daughter.
"Hurry up, Malenkaya." Marie urged, grabbing her coat arm and pulling her up beside her on
the window ledge. The two friends fell silent, just content to watch the stars shine brightly down
on their homes and the high towers of St Petersburg comfort them that they would all be safe
and happy as long as they stayed inside the Palace walls.
Marie turned to her sister, her face oddly wise. "Do you feel anything, Ana?" she whispered
urgently, her saucer like blue eyes wide and curious. Anastasia inclined her head to the side
and looked at her strangely.
"Whatever do you mean?"
Marie just sighed, turning back to the city. "Something's coming, Ana. I can feel it."
Her youngest sister's eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. She quickly leaned in towards Marie and
gripped her forearm tightly, a delighted smile playing on her face. "Really, Mashka?" she asked
excitedly. "Like what?"
Marie frowned, looking deeply troubled. "For the life of me I wouldn't know, dear Shvizbik." She
started to play with her nightgown in her lap nervously until Anastasia got so tired of it she put
her own hands over her sister's to still them.
She jerked; startled to feel her usually strong sister was shaking. "Mashka, what's the matter?"
she asked in alarm, wondering if she should return inside to fetch Olga or Tatiana.
Marie turned to her sister; her eyes glittering with unshed tears. "It is the dreams, Ana. They
keep me up so late I can't get any sleep." she complained.
Anastasia leaned forward again. "Dreams?" She hissed, fascinated by the subject. "What
dreams?"
Marie sighed, leaning forward slightly to look if there were any guards on duty by the Palace
doors who might just happen to look up and see them sitting there and tell their parents.
Seeing she wasn't answering, Anastasia groaned in annoyance and thumped Marie on the
arm, getting her attention.
"What dreams, Marie!?" she asked, becoming insistent.
Her older sister didn't turn to her, just continuing to watch the sparkling city in front of them. "A
girl." she finally explained quietly. "A pretty girl with hair the colour of gold." She looked sharply
at her gaping sister, frowning to tell her to close her mouth.
Anastasia clamped her mouth shut, urging her sister to continue. "She doesn't speak, Ana."
Marie explained, biting her lip with the thought of her dream visitor. "But she seems awfully
unhappy as she sits there, staring out to space."
"Where is she?" Ana asked, her eyes huge as she struggled to take all this in.
Marie cocked her head, playing with the long strands of her curly brown hair idly. "She's in
some sort of bedroom, I know that." She huffed. "Where though, I wouldn't for the life of me
know. The room was so strange, everything was so bright and colourful." She turned to the
silent Anastasia, smiling. "Nothing we have is like that."
Her sister frowned with that, thinking they had everything. "Could she be in somewhere like
Australia?" she asked, desperate to help her troubled sister. "You remember Mama telling us
about all the odd things they have over there."
But Marie only shook her head. "I think maybe she was in America. I tend to remember a
strange looking flag."
Ana yelped in delight. "America!? Oh, my!"
Marie hushed her, her huge blue eyes darting back in their room nervously, as if she expected
her father to come barging in the doors any second. But seeing they remained where they
were, she turned back with a look of relief.
"Why are you dreaming of her, Mashka?" Anastasia asked, picking up a handful of snow and
forming a ball idly between her hands as she glanced at her long haired sister.
"I don't know, Ana. But she will affect us all, I know that now." Marie whispered in reply.
Ana gave out a very unlady-like snort and drew back her arm only to heave the snowball off the
roof and watch wickedly as it smacked into the tree, causing birds to squawk and flee madly
into the night's sky.
"How?" she finally asked, looking around for more snow.
Marie sighed, gathering her sister in her arms as they continued to watch to moon shine
proudly down on them.
"I don't know, Ana. I really don't know."
And with that, the two girl fell into silence, not knowing that soon in time a sudden meeting
would change not only their own lives, but that of their beloved family as well, forever....
PART 1
Sunnydale, America. 2001.
Buffy sighed in boredom and looked around the dark, deserted graveyard. There wasn't a
vampire in sight. Putting her hands on her hips impatiently she let out a frustrated breath of air,
searching almost desperately for something to kill.
But when she heard female laughter behind her, she quickly spun on her heals; her hands
squeezed into fist and placed in front of her chest.
She frowned when she got a good look at the laughing person's face. "Will, you really shouldn't
sneak up on people like that!" the Slayer told her best friend sternly. "I could have killed you!"
Willow just laughed, walking the rest of the way that separated them and patting Buffy in mock
pity on her arm. "You might be good, Buffy. But you not *that* good."
Buffy sniffed, battering her hand away in a fake insult. But the huge grin she had on her face
gave it all away. The two friends fell into step beside each other as they continued to walk
through the dark cemetery. Finally Buffy turned to Willow and asked,
"Were did you come from anyway?" Her eyes started to scan the distance, searching for her
other friends that she knew where all out there somewhere, patrolling.
Willow stuffed her hands into her parka pockets and jerked her head to the side. "That way
somewhere, I think." She grinned at her friend. "Riley thought we'd get more luck over by the
playground."
Buffy frowned again, not really liking how her boyfriend had seemed to take over the Slaying
from her...not like Angel had.... Buffy stiffened with that thought, shaking her head slightly.
Wouldn't she ever get over him??
"Hey, Buffy!" The familiar cry made both her and Willow turn, the figures of Riley, Tara, Xander
and Anya bringing smiles to their faces as their friends all jogged over to them.
"Did you find anything?" Riley asked, wrapping his hands around Buffy waist and leaning his
head on her shoulder. Buffy bit back a shudder, finding him far to clingy lately. But she didn't
say anything and the small group of friends all headed towards the gateway of the cemetery,
the night's Patrol well and truly over.
"Nah, the place is deserted." Buffy told her boyfriend, heaving the heavy backpack over her
shoulder as they started towards Campus. Inside where bits and pieces she had retrieved from
her mother's house before going on Patrol with her friends: photos and cards, her CD player
and a few CD's that she forgot to pack when she originally had set off for Collage.
Riley saw her discomfit and frowned in concern. "Do you want me to take it?" he asked, ever
the gentleman. But Buffy only bristled and gave him an odd look.
"Rye, I'm stronger than you, I think I can manage." He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her
sharp tone, wondering just what he had done wrong. Buffy saw this and sighed in apology as
they crossed the man street of Sunnydale, the shops dark of any life.
"Sorry, it's been a long night." Riley smiled sadly at this, rubbing her arm.
"And just think, Buff." Xander added helpfully from her side. "You only have to do the exact
same thing tomorrow night!" Buffy laughed and slapped his arm none to lightly.
"Hey!" Anya complained, inspected Xander's arm in concern. "There is only one person who
gets to wack Xander around here, and it most certainly isn't you, missy!"
Buffy held up her hands in defence, trying to hide the grin that she couldn't seem to keep of her
face. "Sorry, Anya." She kept her face serious. "I'll try to remember that in future."
Anya gave a sniff and nodded, excepting her apology, not seeing Willow and Tara cover their
mouths with their hands, the Witches bodies jerking slightly as they giggled.
Xander leered towards Buffy. "If that's the way the river runs, who gets to spank you, huh,
Buffy?"
But any reply she was going to make was cut of as the stunned Xander watched with his own
eyes as his dear friend suddenly gasped in pain and disappeared into thin air, the only trace
she had been standing there seconds before was her muddy footprints in the gutter on the
road...
****
Tsarskoe Selo. St Petersburg, Russia. 1915.
Buffy stumbled, her feet freezing almost instantly as she felt herself standing in knee-deep
snow. Raising her head she looked out desperately into the fields of white nothingness, the
mist making it so she didn't even know where the sky ended and the ground began.
"Whaaat??" she choked, looking around for any sigh of Willow, Xander, and their friends who
had been walking just beside her mere seconds before down the main street of Sunnydale
towards the dorms.
They were nowhere to been found, Buffy finally admitting to herself that she was well and truly
alone out here...wherever here was, she thought. Starting to shiver, the Slayer wrapped her
arms around her body closely, wishing suddenly that she had decided to wear warmer
clothing than the short black Singlet top she was now wearing and her tight leather pants.
She began to walk, where she didn't know, but quickly deciding that anywhere would be better
than the freezing cold she now resided in. But she had yet to take two steps when her feet
crumpled under her and she feel face first into the snow. Being a typical Californian girl that
she was, Buffy wasn't used to having these sort of conditions thrust upon her.
"Shit!" she cried, her voice muffled from the snow as she lifted her now soaked blonde head
from the wetness and brushed the fluffy white snow off her face furiously.
"When I find Giles, I'm gonna kill him." Buffy muttered, getting more madder as the minutes
ticked by and she still continued to stand in the snow, gods knows how far from the nearest
telephone. Seeing that it wasn't any good to move, the slayer looked around her at her
surroundings curiously, searching for people.
"Jeez, it's cold." she whispered, her lips turning blue as she noticed her legs go weaker.
"Whoa, there." she told herself, sinking to her knees on the white covered ground. "What until
Willow hears about this." was her last mutter as she felt her eyes go impossibly heavy and
close, her breathing weak and shallow as the cold started to take affect on her almost
uncovered body.
It was just so cold...
****
Marie closed her eyes again as the Troika flew across the icy grounds, the soft mist of snow
leaving tiny damp kisses on her cheeks, and turning her eyelashes to lace as she listened to
the horses' bells dancing in her ears like music.
Faster...faster, Marie grinned as the driver forced the shining black horses on with his whip
through the snow. As she opened her eyes again, she could see the Village just outside
Tsarskoe Selo. She smiled to herself as she squinted to see the two twin palaces just beyond
it, and pulled back one heavy fur-lined glove to see how much time it had taken to travel home
from St Petersburg.
Looking up, Marie looked out the window again, content to watch the now white trees wizz by
her line of vision as the slay hurried along the road, Marie's belly wishing she was home
already for she knew dinner would soon be on the table.
Then she caught something out of the corner of her eye, a dark bundle in the snow.
"Folkine, stop!" Marie screamed at the driver who instantly rained the whining horses with a yell.
The round old man turned just in time to see the side door fly open and the young Grand
Duchess stumble out onto the deep snow, her ankle length, white dress darkening instantly as
her weight pulled her down into the fluffy white snow.
"Your Highness, wait!" Folkine yelled, quickly making his way off the Troika as well. But Marie
ignored him, struggling to pull her short legs through the coldness as she picked up the end of
her dress and hurried towards the dark bundle lying in the snow. She didn't know what had
come over her, the Duchess knowing only to well what her father - the Tsar - would say to his
beloved daughter tramping over the frozen fields at this time. With the Great War raging around
them, none of them were safe...not that any of the Imperial family thought they would be in
danger.
But this was far from Marie's mind as she struggled over to what she now knew was a figure,
lying frozen in the snow. She was panting in exhaustion as she finally reached it, falling to her
knees beside the unmoving body, causing her long brown hair to come loose from its holdings
and fall around her face.
Reaching out with her now shivering hands, Marie firmly latched onto their shoulder and gently
pulled, causing the small body to roll over on their front.
Marie gasped.
Lying there, her eyes closed in what looked like sleep, was a beautiful blonde girl. Her lips
were blue with the cold, her cheeks having received a pink tinge. Marie gazed on in wonder,
completely unable to tear her huge blue eyes of the girl's enchanting face, her hand slowly
rising from the ground to cover her mouth in shock.
It was the girl from her dreams.
Marie barely noticed Folkine thunder across the snow in her direction and then pause, putting
his huge hands on his knees, gasping for a breath. The driver then stilled, realising for the first
time that his little charge wasn't moving...seemingly content to sit there on her knees in the
freezing snow, her graceful hand held up against her mouth in elegant surprise.
The peasant knitted his thick black eyebrows in a frown, turning his gaze towards the cause of
their current troubles. He swore when he realised the sex of the bundle, sighing in pity. What a
waste to loose such a pretty girl to nature. But knowing instantly that the young Duchess
shouldn't be exposed to such horrors, Folkine eased himself up onto his feet again and
regarded the small Princess at his feet.
He had worked for her grandfather as a boy, and his father had worked for their family before
him. Only for Marie would Folkine discard her parent's instructions and let her sit here, exposed
to the wild and alien environment that she had no part of in her normal life. Only for her would
he risk her father's ire and her mother's silent, elegant displeasure.
But Marie was his favourite of all her sisters and even their little brother...a fact that surprised
them all for everyone loved Alexei, and Folkine had to admit that he found the little
Tsarevich enchanting. Marie might have been his favourite with her large blue eyes and round,
kind face but Alexei was special. Everyone knew that.
But now he only felt pity towards the lovely girl who his wife had helped raise since birth. Slowly
bending his knees, the old man stood behind the soft brown haired girl and laid a comforting
hand on her fur-covered shoulder.
"Come, M'lady." Folkine told the shivering Duchess gently. "She is dead. There is nothing you
can do."
But the words were barely out of his mouth will the sleeping blonde girl moaned and turned her
head to the side feverly.
Marie jerked, falling back on her butt abruptly as she stared, wide eyed, at the figure who was
now weakly sobbing into the snow, her long hair encrusted with snow and her cheeks red from
the cold. The 16-year-old Duchess paled instantly and quickly reached out for the girl, sitting
on her knees and latching her arms under the blonde girl's armpits, attempting to pull her
towards the warmth of the Troika.
Folkine saw her intentions and was by her side in a flash. Stumbling, the tall man gently
pushed Marie out of the way and took her place and with a grunt, heaved the light girl into his
arms. Marie tried not to wince when she saw her head fall lifelessly to the side, her lips
seemingly getting bluer by the minute.
"What does she expect?" Folkine muttered loudly. "Wearing clothing like that in this
weather...it's a disgrace."
Marie started and as they hurried towards the waiting horses, noticed for the first time just what
sort of clothing the dream girl was actually wearing. She dropped her mouth in surprise, her big
blue eyes travelling over her short Singlet and tight leather pants. And as Folkine gently placed
her on the fur covered seat and Marie jumped in beside her, the Duchess reached out with a
curious hand a fingered the rough leather in wonder.
But whatever opinion she was about to master was abruptly cut off as the horses set off with a
slash of Folkine's whip. Wrapping her new companion up in the thick fur blanket that she knew
was under the seat, Marie tightened her grip on the side of the Troika and gazed, unable to
tear her eyes the magickal form of the girl from her dreams.
And as she heard the unmistakable sound of the Cossack Guards stopping the Troika as they
neared the Palace gates, Marie bit her lip in frustration, mentally hoping her father's guards
didn't ask Folkine why they were in such a hurry and check back with her to see just what they
were hiding.
But there was no such luck. She heard the argument that started, and sighing in fury Marie
ignored her sensibility for a moment and jumped up out of her seat...only to poke her brown
haired head out the sleigh window.
The Cossack spun around instantly, spotting her abrupt arrival out of the corner of his eye. But
when he looked closer at not only her face but the quality of her clothes his black eyes opened
wide and he stiffened to attention.
"M'lady?" he asked.
"Would you please get out of the way?" Marie snapped. "My father is expecting me to be home
for dinner and it will be you I send him to if I am late!"
The young man nodded his head slightly, understanding the order. And with a crisp salute he
stepped to the side, barking orders to his men as they followed his lead.
Marie inclined her head gracefully. "Thank you." she told him simply. Seeing that her job was
done, she disappeared back into the Troika, ignoring the confused expression of the young
man's face.
But then Folkine was off again, Marie looking up and across at the impressive twin towers that
were looming over the treetops and they raced through the pure gold gates and down the mile
long drive. She closed her eyes in dread as she spotted the almost impossibly high peaks of
the Alexander Palace as she only just then realised she had no clue what so ever what her
mother was going to say...they had too many sick people to care for as it was because of the
war.
But she quickly tightened her lips together stubbornly; gazing with tender eyes down at the
sleeping, flushed face of the girl she saved.
Marie came from a family who painted history, but in all the luxury and beauty she had seen
over the course of her life in Imperial Russia...it would be this sleeping girl who would change
her life forever.
****
The Empress Alexandra almost had a heart attack when she came flying down the grand
staircase at the raised tone of her third daughter's voice, only to spy Marie standing just inside
the front door with one of their servants, covered from head to toe in snow.
"Mashka!" Alix's displeased voice could be heard vibrating throughout the huge hallway. But
the Tsarina's cool blue-grey eyes opened wide in alarm as she noticed the black bundle in
Folkine's arms.
Marie turned just in time to see her beautiful, elegant mother come gracefully jogging down the
stairs, her floor length violet gown held up by her small, slender fingers to help her move. Marie
smiled lovingly at the dignified vision of Alix, hoping with all her heart that the Tsarina didn't turn
out their new guest.
"Mama, look!" Marie cried, running over to her mother and kissing both her cheeks in greeting.
Alix returned the gesture warmly but her daughter could see she was distracted by whatever
Folkine was still holding in his arms.
Quickly, Marie released Alix and grabbed her silk sleave, pulling her impatiently across to the
now shivering servant and the sleeping girl. Alix smiled at Folkine, telling the uncomfortable
man to relax as she slowly gazed at the beautiful blonde girl in his arms, taking in her red
cheeks and blue lips.
"Who is she, Marie?" The Empress asked her gentle daughter who had walked up hesitantly
behind her. But Marie only shrugged her shoulders, smiling at the silent maid who hurried into
the room suddenly and took her coat, releasing the long mane of light brown hair down her
back.
"I wouldn't have the slightest idea, mama." Marie told the Tsarina. "I saw her lying in the snow
on the side of they road and we stopped and got her." She bristled at her mother's suddenly
displeased expression.
"What was I suppose to do, mama?" Mashka asked. Her voice was never raised, but her
displeasure was easy to read as she looked at her. "Leave her there to die?"
Alix frowned, her cool grey eyes locked on her daughter's soft round face. "Of course not,
Mashka." The Empress told her and she smiled gently when she saw her daughter wince.
Beckoning the short girl over, Alix wrapped her arms around her shoulders and at the same
time, let Folkine up the stairs.
"I am glad you brought her here, although I wish you could have informed us sooner."
Marie didn't answer, only followed her golden haired, German mother down the deserted
hallway. She saw people stop and stare at them as they continued their journey, maids and
such. But she ignored them all, her worried eyes never leaving the frozen girl in Folkine's arms.
The three of them were silent as Alix lead them off down another passage way and stop,
poking her regal head through the door to see if anyone had taken up residence in the chosen
room.
But with a satisfied nod, the Tsarina turned to her daughter and beckoned them both in, Marie's
eyes going impossibly wide when she realised just where they now where.
It was her mother's room.
Noticing the girl's shock, Alix smiled. "It is the only place your father wouldn't look, Mashka."
she told Marie, watching nervously as the silent Folkine eased the sleeping girl down into the
Empress' own bed.
Stepping back, Marie and Alix took his place, the servant bowing respectably as Alix waved her
slender hand towards the door, telling him he could now leave. But as soon as they heard the
click of the door, the two scions began the task of removing her clothes...much to Alix's dismay.
She had taken one look at the Singlet and pants Buffy was wearing after they removed the fur
blanket she had been wrapped in and stepped back in surprise.
"Where did she even get such strange clothing?" The Empress muttered unlady- like, eyeing
the pants she now held in her hands in bewilderment. But Marie only laughed, finding the items
fascinating. With curious hands, she held the Singlet up against herself, not noticing her
mother's frown.
"Don't even think it, Marie." Alix told her in a firm tone but she was still smiling. "Your father
would have a heart attack."
Marie only smiled shyly, running to the armoire only to return with what looked like a dressing
gown. It was made of heavy white brocade silk and had a low square neck. Gently, Alix and her
daughter slipped it over Buffy's narrow shoulders and slowly leaned her back into the huge
bed.
Knowing there was nothing else they could do, the two Russians sat on the side of the bed,
Alix pulling her daughter onto her lap and wrapped her arms around her front lovingly. Marie
sighed at the gesture and leaned her head back against her mother's chest.
They had only been there for a minute or so before they heard the gentle knock on the bedroom
door. Alix jerked, her head flying gracefully towards the barrier. But swallowing, she raised her
chin and said in a crisp voice,
"Yes?"
They both saw the turning of the doorknob as they waited in dread for who was about to
enter, both woman unconsciously expecting their Tsar, Nicholas. But as the sheaf of hair
seemed to precede their visitors they both sighed in relief when the door opened and three
heads poke in curiously.
Olga, Tatiana and even the young Anastasia's mouths fell open when their eyes searched
around the room and finally rested on their mother and sister, sitting on the edge of Alix's bed,
watching the blonde figure who was shifting restlessly in the bed, her head turning from side to
side feverly.
Marie smiled at her sisters, beckoning them over even as they hesitantly left the doorway and
slowly creped over.
They were all so different, Marie mused, eyeing them kindly as the walked over, Tatiana
gripping the short Anastasia's hand in her own.
Olga, the oldest at 20, had dark blonde hair like their mother, icy blue eyes and a short nose of
which she was somewhat self-conscious. A kind person, Marie was always impressed by her
frank, honest manner. Sometimes, however, because she was the oldest, Olga could be a bit
spoiled and was constantly at odds with her mother, Alexandra. She was more close to
Nicholas and got on with him perfectly. A brilliant student, Olga was far better at her studies
than the younger three, and liked to make the fact known by teasing her sisters.
Although not Tatiana, Marie thought sullenly. They never had fights; the two older girls having
best friends since infancy just like her and Anastasia.
Tatiana though, didn't have any excuses why she wasn't as good a student than her older
sister. The 18 year old was only 18 months younger than Olga and was considered the most
beautiful of all Alexandra and the Tsar's daughters. She was tall and slender with long auburn
hair and deep-set grey eyes. Tatiana loved fashion and dressed in all the latest styles. But to
compensate for disliking her studies, the girl was an excellent artist.
With a sad frown Marie had to admit that Tatiana was also very reserved. The shy girl was
always trying to make other friends her own age but they always failed to become close.
Marie smiled as a thought suddenly came to her. Not like Anastasia. The youngest daughter
of the Tsar had always been known as the family comic. She was short, stout, with her father's
blue eyes and her mother's golden hair. Anastasia was also an accomplished mimic, her
humour often touching upon sensitive spots, and she could tease ruthlessly at times. Though
she was quite intelligent, Anastasia preferred climbing trees to her lessons and was fiercely
independent. She was a tomboy and rarely cried. Overall, Ana was a boisterous child who
loved taking pictures of her family with her camera.
But now, as the three girls reached them all Marie felt was love. Olga sat down beside her
mother and Tatiana led the gaping Anastasia over to stand at the end of the bed.
"Is she dead?" Tatiana asked quietly, eyeing Buffy critically. But Alexandra only laughed,
ruffling Marie's long hair with her hand.
"No, Tatia." her mother explained gently. "She's just very sick."
"Wherever did you find her, Mashka?" Olga abruptly asked her sister, reaching out with her
graceful hand and touching Buffy's still arm, seemingly just making sure she was real.
Frowning, Marie battered her hand away protectively.
"Me and Folkine saw her on the way back from St Petersburg." she explained, catching
Anastasia's eye and giving a slight nod.
The girl's eyes flew open in alarm, stepping forward to grip the foot of the bed as she stared
down at Buffy in a whole new light. She mouthed the words, "America?" and Marie smiled
excitedly, this whole exchange going unnoticed by the rest of the family.
"What is father going to say?" Tatiana said in a low voice, glancing at her mother with a sly
grin. But Alix only sniffed, pushing Tatiana away with a laugh.
"I'm sure he would have done the same thing."
Olga coughed, totally disagreeing and her mother gave her an odd look. But whatever further
conversation was going to follow was abruptly cut off as Buffy suddenly moaned, squeezing
her fist into balls.
The five Romanov's all turned to her expectably, waiting excitedly for her to wake up. And
under Alix's watchful gaze, Buffy sputtered and her eyes fluttered open.
She winced at the light, blinking madly to clear her vision. But when she did, the Slayer thought
she was dreaming.... for staring back at her was a beautiful middle aged woman.... and four
enchanting teenage girls, their eyes locked on her.
Buffy blinked in surprise.
*****
PART 2:
Buffy didn't know what the hell was happening. The last thing the Slayer remembered quite
clearly was the endless snow...not to mention just how bloody cold the stuff was. But now, here
she was, toasty warm, laying sprawled out in a very comfortable bed and wrapped in heavy silk
sheets and a duvet.
Overall, it was a very nice place to be.
Save for the five women staring curiously over at her from their various places around the bed.
One in particular, who was sitting in the older woman's arms, was smiling brilliantly at her and
her eyes seemed to sparkle.
Gaping, Buffy scooted up the bed to get away from them, holding the sheets close to her body
protectively. With wide, bewildered eyes she moved over all of them, wishing they would just
stop staring at her and explain who they were.
And as she had read her mind, one of the older girls leaned forward, smiled at the Slayer kindly
and spoke a few quick words the Buffy had never heard before.
Marrying her brows together in confusion, she asked, "What?"
Her response was immediate. The girl's face lit up in charmed surprise before quickly and
effortlessly switching languages. Laughing, she told the baffled Slayer in heavy English, "I'm
sorry, we didn't realise you didn't speak Russian."
Snorting, Buffy crossed her arms across her chest defensively and tried to not think of the
slightly distressing fact that she was obviously laying in one of their beds. "Why in the world
would I speak *Russian* or all languages?" she asked them in an odd tone.
But as if it was obvious, the girl looked quickly at the others before turning back to Buffy.
Speaking with a strong accent that Buffy had strangely not noticed before now, she told her
bluntly...
"Because we *are* Russian."
******
Marie didn't know why the girl was so stunned by Olga's reply, but her mouth fell open and
without a word, she threw back the heavy covers that had before this kept her confined to the
huge bed, and with speed Marie found quite unusual, she jumped out of the bed and sprinted
off across the bedroom in the direction of the large, French windows, making the long
nightgown that she and her mother, Alexandra, had spend ages putting her in fly out behind
her. All of the Romanov woman watched, not quite knowing exactly what to do, as their strange
visitor stopped before the windows and threw them open, completely ignoring the thick blanket
of snow-drops that flew into the bedroom suddenly.
Then she froze, both of her now freezing hands still griping the window latches on either side
so tightly that her knuckles were white. She didn't move, just stood there in the freezing air,
staring out of the palace window down onto the streets of Russia's majestic capital, St
Petersburg.
Slowly, as if she was frightened to scare the bird, Marie got up from her mother's lap and softly
padded across the carpet, wincing as the still wet clothes she had been wearing since the find
slapped against her skin. But trying to ignore it, she reached the suddenly shaking girl and
stood silently behind her, knowing that the rest of her family were watching them from back at
the bed. Reaching out with her delicate hand, she rested it on Buffy's shaking shoulder and
gave her a squeeze of comfort.
The girl's shoulders seemed to sag with the touch and Marie breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Coming to standing beside the slightly taller blonde, the Princess joined her as they both stared
out the window onto their royal village, Tsarskoe Selo and of course, St Petersburg.
The city shone back at them in all its glory, the unmistakable Russian domes of the Cathedral
that was the centre of their lives shooting up proudly into the frozen sky like some mystical
castle of a fairy tale. Looking at the city like this had always held a strange appeal to Marie, she
didn't know why. But it was probably something to do with the fact that no other city in the world could match the simply stunning beauty and elegance that St Petersburg had held since its
founder by her ancestor hundreds of years before.
"Where am I?" The girl suddenly whispered in an awed voice, Marie frowning slightly with the
strange lift in her accent. But not wanting to insult her with what was obviously her native
tongue, Mashka smiled softly and lifted her hand, seeing the slight turn of her companion's
eyes as she too, watched the snow flakes dance beautifully and come to a soft end on her
outstretched palm.
"Your in Russia...do you like it?" Marie couldn't wait for her answer.
But the American didn't reply straight away, her bewildered gaze travelling slowly over the
Golden Gates that separated Tsarskoe Selo from the rest of the city that could just been made
out on the horizon.
"It's the coolest thing I have *ever* seen."
Marie gave a tinkering laugh, not understanding her wording but getting the main idea. But
when the girl suddenly sighed and turned back towards them, she sobered up, putting on a
straight face as she regarded her with critical eyes.
"But that still doesn't explain just *where* I am...not to mention who you guys are." She threw
up her hands in annoyance and slowly made her way back towards the warmth of the bed,
leaving Marie to quickly pull shut the windows behind them.
"The last thing I remember is the snow..." She sent baffled looks around the impressive
Empress' bedroom, noting the large framed originals that hung from the beautifully painted
walls and the impressive drapes and even the large wardrobe that she found on her travels.
Empress Alix just gave a charmed laugh as Buffy finished and sat back down on the bed, up
against the headboard. She sat there, arms crossed once again over her chest, waiting for
someone to explain.
"Marie found you almost catching your death out there in the wilderness..." she smiled gently.
"You would have surely died if not been found."
Buffy gave a sigh and asked bluntly, "Who's Marie? Sorry, I didn't catch your names."
Alix raised her eyebrows in surprise, surely thinking that the girl should know just who they
were, even if she was obviously American. But deciding to indulge the blonde, she pointed one
delicate finger backwards and tapped herself on her chest lightly.
"My name is Alexandra and these are my daughters..." she ruffled Marie's hair and smiled.
"Marie, Olga...and that's Anastasia and Tatiana over there." she replied, jerking her head in the
two silent girls direction from where they sat on the end of the bed, Anastasia leaning her head
up against her sister's shoulder.
Buffy looked at the each in turn, smiling in greeting. "I'm Buffy." she told them quietly, still totally bewildered by the fact that she was here in the first place.
Marie frowned at her name. "Is that your real name? Or is it short for Elizabeth?" she asked,
thinking the obvious. But the Slayer bristled, rolling her eyes.
"No. As weird as it may seem, Buffy's my real name."
The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise, noting that her mother and Olga did the same.
Catching their glances, Buffy smiled and gave a little laugh. "Blame my mother." was all she
said and was strangely accepted by the woman.
The room fell into a comfortable silence before Tatiana quietly spoke up in her soft voice, "Do
you have any recognition as to how you came to be here?"
Buffy just shrugged her shoulders casually, turning to look at the pretty, dreamy eyed girl of 18.
With a sad look on her face, she replied, "No actually. The last thing I remember is walking
down to street with my friends, then bang!...you know the rest."
Alexandra frowned, leaning forward to place the back of her hand gently on Buffy's forehead.
"You must have fainted." she told the girl, at the same time running other possible answers in
her in her head, just the same as Buffy was.
Pulling back, she sighed. "Well, you don't have a fever, so that's good." But then she frowned
at Buffy, putting her hands on her hips. "What were you doing walking around the streets for at
this time of the night? Do you have any idea the danger you could have put yourself in."
Buffy looked at her in surprise. She sounded just like her mother, Joyce. But knowing
Alexandra obviously thought Buffy was talking about being in Russia when she talked, the
Slayer wisely clamped her mouth shut before she revealed too much to her. All she needed to
do was find the nearest link with the Watchers Council and arrange for a plane ticket home to
America so she could yell at Giles for screwing up whatever he had been trying to do behind
her back and accidentally sending her here! She had never really had a yearn to see Russia
anyway, especially now that she had seen just how badly they dressed. They looked like
something out of a history book!
"Especially with the war on..." she smiled a sad smile. "The streets just are not as safe as they
used to be."
Buffy looked at her oddly, not remembering hearing anything about a Russian war on the news
when she did actually get around to watching it. "What war?" she asked them.
They all choked, sending disbelieving looks in her direction. She saw the youngest girl,
Anastasia, she thought her name was, get up from her spot and walk around her side of the
bed, Buffy's eyes glued on her face the whole time. She stopped by the Slayer, leaning forward
so that their faces were just inches away and stared into Buffy's face with her own huge blue
eyes.
"Are you sick or something? What do you mean what war?" she asked bluntly with her childlike
voice. "There has only been one! The Great War of course."
Now, Buffy might not have been very good at history, but if there was one thing that she
remembered from all of her and Willow's study sessions, it was that *that* name was only used
for one war...and that was World War One.
"Pardon me!?" she practically yelled, her eyes popping. But then, as she looked once again at
the five females state of clothing; their long, white dresses that had more lace on them than
Buffy had on her christening dress, their strange manner of speech; so formal and polite...it all
seemed to fall into place.
She moaned, covering her face with her hand, knowing that her problem had just gotten a
whole lot worse.
******
Buffy was not amused.
Of all the things she had had to face of the years of being the Slayer; burning down the gym at
her old school, getting killed by the Master, killing Angel then getting him back..only to lose him
once again down the track...nothing could have prepared her for the shock she felt when she
realised suddenly that she had been thrown back in time.
Not just any time, mind you...but Russia, 1915, in the middle of the bloody First World War.
Over all...the Slayer knew she was screwed.
And here she was, laying in a bed surrounded by four of the loveliest girls she had ever seen
and their mother; people who have just saved her from freezing to death out in the snow where
she had been dumped...trying to decided quickly just how much she should tell them about
who she was.
She had no doubt that they wouldn't have a clue what she was talking about, they already
thought she was mad for having no idea what so ever that there was a war raging around her
ears!
"Ahh, i've been out of touch from normal society for a long time," she told them quickly, as it
was the best excuse she could think up on the spot. "We didn't know anything about a war."
Alix still looked at her in disbelief. "That is the oddest thing I have ever heard, my girl. How long
have you been in Russia?"
Buffy gave an ironic laugh. "Not long, believe me."
Looking over their faces, Buffy stopped on the girl from the window, Marie. She was staring at
her strangely and Buffy had no doubt what so ever that she knew she was lying to her mother.
Wincing, she looked away quickly, turning her attention back to Alexandra who was still
speaking.
"Do you have anywhere to stay?" she asked in her heavy English and the Slayer grimaced,
only then realising that she spoke the truth. She had been so preoccupied by the fact that she
was here in the *first place*, her only thought had been how she was going to get home to
Giles and Willow and the others. But knowing now that might end up taking more time than she
would have originally liked, Buffy shook her head at the kind looking Tsarina.
"No actually."
Anastasia was off the bed in a shot. Clapping her hands, she begged her mother, "Please,
mama? Can Buffy stay here with us?" She stopped, her eyes going wide as she hurried to
make the plans in her head concerning the fact that only her and her darling Marie knew just
who the girl really was.
"She can stay with Mashka, and me mama! Our rooms big enough to fit *all* us girlies!"
Olga chuckled and with the maturity that came with being the oldest, she tried to calm her
youngest sister as Tatiana and Marie looked on smiling. "Don't you think Buffy would like her
own room, Ana? After all, we have over a hundred in the palace, I think it would only be fair."
Anastasia stopped her jumping and sulked, sending pleading glances in the Slayer's direction.
But the bewildered Buffy just looked at Marie again, and although her face was strangely calm
and blank of any emotion, Buffy could tell that she too, wanted desperately for her to take up
her little sister's offer...but for reasons that were totally different from Anastasia's.
Not taking her eyes of Marie's face, Buffy slowly nodded her head. "Sure, Ana. I'd love to sleep
in your room." Then quickly, she looked at the grinning Tsarina and added quickly, "Only if
that's alright with you, of course."
But Alexandra only smiled and nodded her head. "Of course it is, my girl."
Anastasia gave a yelp and started to jump up and down again, then quickly rushed over to
Buffy and threw her arms around her neck and gave the baffed Slayer a huge hug and three
Russian kisses; one to either check then a quick peck on her lips.
"This is going to be great!" she raved. "You'll see!"
Buffy just looked sadly at the excited 14 year old, smiling softly as her long hair flew out behind
her as she spun around in circles. It only then figured to the American that she didn't really
know any thing about this family except their first names. Although deep down she knew she
probably wouldn't be here long enough *to* learn anything about this beautiful family, she did
know she would miss them already when she found a way back to her world...not that she had
the first clue how she was going to do that yet.
Anastasia abruptly halted when there was a crisp knock on the door. Alexandra turned her
head gracefully towards it and asked, "Yes?"
The door slowly opened and Buffy saw a timid, young, black haired girl enter the room and
walk briskly across the floor to where the Tsarina was sitting. Bending down, she whispered
something in Alix's ear and then straightened. The Empress' face brightened suddenly as she
waved the maid out of the room. Standing, she turned to the five girls and looked mostly to her
daughters as she told them all,
"Baby's awake." She stood quickly and helped Buffy out of the bed, producing a thick, floor
length dressing gown for the baffled girl and eased it over her shoulders.
"Come." she told the Slayer as Marie and her sisters all hurried to the door. "I'd like you to meet
the other members of our family."
*****
As the Empress gently hurried the Slayer out the bedroom door, Buffy got the first glimpse of
the home that she would be staying in until she found away to get home to the 21 century.
If you could call it a home, that is.
It was more like a castle.
A palace to be exact. As the hurried down the hallway, the other girls already out of sight, Buffy
gaped at the shear size of the place. To her guess, they were on the third story, the huge grand
staircase winding its way down to the biggest marble floored foyer Buffy had ever seen. It was
bigger than her entire *house*.
There were closed doors everywhere, the roof higher than a church's and the chandlers that
fell from them bigger than her and Willow's bedroom back at the dorms. It was simply the
beautiful and grandest place she had ever seen.
Knowing she would just *have* to give herself the tour later, Buffy let to Empress guide her
down the corridor and through a door at its end. Looking up, she knew instantly that this was a
child's bedroom, the blue walls and toys that scattered the floor evidence of that. Looking
around, she saw the four girls all gathering around a small bed that was in the corner of the
pretty room, talking and laughing with whoever was in it.
Buffy caught a quick glimpse of a man sitting on a chair at the bedside through Tatiana's dress
before he vanished again. But when the girls suddenly parted and he stood up, Buffy didn't
catch his face instantly. But then, as he started to walk towards her and Alix, she looked
up...and found herself staring up and the kindest, gentlest face she had ever seen.
Stunned into silence, she watched the dignified man reach them and embrace Alix, giving her a
loving hug and a kiss on the forehead. Buffy could tell instantly that the two of them were
deeply in love. But when he turned his gaze of her, his eyes sizing her up and down before
smiling, she had no idea that standing before her was one of the most powerful men in the
world. A figure who made history to her and her generation, but who stood there now in flesh
and blood. He was the Autocratic man who ruled one sixth of the globe...the Tsar of all Imperial
Russia.
"Hello." he told her quietly, picking up her hand gently to place a kiss of its surface.
"My lovely wife tells me that we have a visitor staying with us."
Buffy blushed, ducking her head. But the man only chuckled, placing a finger underneath her
chin and pushing it up, forcing her to lock eyes.
"It's fine, my girl. A pleasure, even." He smiled again before suddenly bowing in front of her
gracefully. Straightening up, he told the strangely silent Slayer...
"Its a charming pleasure to have such a beautiful American staying in my household...My name
is Nicholas. Nicholas Romanov."
And Buffy felt her blood run cold.
******
Buffy never thought she was overly good at history; it was one of her worst subjects actually.
But there was one topic that she remembered quiet clearly...having Willow there to teach it to
you did that, she figured.
And that was the Russian Revolution.
She knew the name Nicholas Romanov, or course, who didn't? And as she stood there, her
now terrified eyes locked on his own gentle ones, she knew how this story would play out...And
most importantly...
...she knew the horrifying ending.
The figure in the bed caught her attention and she jerked her hand out of Nicholas' grasp.
Turning her head quickly, she was stunned to see a little boy, no older than 11, laying there
watching her silently. He had the face of an angel. Blonde hair and shinning blue eyes stared at
her curiously.
She knew before asking that this little boy, lying weakly in the bed, was the centre of this
family's lives. She knew that his sisters worshipped him and that he was his parent's pride and
joy.
"Hello." he said, simply like his father. "I'm Alexei. Are you going to be staying with us?"
Buffy didn't reply, she couldn't. And it was at that moment that she knew she didn't want to be
here; she would rather be anywhere else but here. To see this little boy's shining face, his
delicate fingers gently gripping around hers when she slowly sank down in the chair that
Nicholas had been sitting in moments before, and to know that it would be him, this boy who
seemed to be bathed in sunshine, who would be the direct link that destroyed his father's
reign...and his beloved family's deaths.
For she knew, that in just over three years time, this family would be the centre of one of the
greatest murders, the greatest *mysteries* the world have ever seen.
And the Slayer closed her eyes in dread.
****
Author: Damia
Email: Damia_1@hotmail.com
Pairing: Buffy/Angel. Xander/Anya. Willow/Tara. Other/Other
Rating: Umm, we shall say PG-13 for the future parts.. which will get rather nasty later on.
Disclaimer: Don't own Buffy. Nuff' said about that. Some characters are mine, none that are introduced in this part though. (For future reference, some of these are Cora, Mr Betran, Folkine, and Serko Vasilev.) The Romanovs belong to nobody.well, except history.
Season: Season 5. (Start)
Spoilers: Dawn's in it, well, will be soon. Riley's in it too, (sorry) but not for long!
Summery: Buffy travels back to 1915, Russia, where she meets the Romanovs, Russia's Imperial Family, which sets of a chain of events that would change a family forever.
Notes: Not many...ok, a few. Just want to say that this story means a lot to me, I've been a fan of the Romanov's for a long, long time and for me, this story is a way of expressing the admiration I have for such an extraordinary family. And to add Buffy to the mix, well! What could be better? Two of my favourite things in one! A big thanx to my biggest fan, Emily, who sits on her computer at 2 in the morning on the other side of the world, following through dreamed up plots with me!
Prologue.
Tsarskoe Selo. St Petersburg, Russia. 1915.
Marie Nicholaievna Romanov smiled and looked out the window down towards the snow-caped ground from her huge three-story bedroom that she shared with her younger
sister of two years, Anastasia. Quickly looking around her dark bedroom to make sure neither
her Mama or Papa were watching, Marie climbed up onto the window seat and with a mighty
heave, pushed the twin French windows wide open, letting the frozen Russian air dance inside.
The light brown haired, 16 year old girl sighed deeply and closed her eyes, feeling the snow
drops fall off the roof of the Alexander Palace and land on her creamy nose. She grinned
wickedly, for she knew if one of her parents found her here catching her death there would be
hell to pay.
She opened her eyes with that thought, gazing with her doe like blue eyes down out into the
deserted streets of Tsarskoe Selo, the lights reflexing off the mighty Palaces the only light that
could be seen in the night sky. Marie shivered, wrapping her French silk nightgown around her
body and tried to forget about the harsh winter's breath as she made her way out of the window
to sit on the ledge, her bare ivory legs dangling off the side.
"Mashka, what are you doing?" came a furious whisper and Marie turned her head gracefully,
regarding her beautiful 14 year old sister in amusement.
"Dear, Ana." Marie told her, giggling. "Are you to tell me you have never ventured out our
magnificent window to watch the moon?"
Anastasia knitted her delicate eyebrows regally, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't get her
in trouble. Marie saw her intention and grinned, beaconing her beloved sister over to her. The
girl let out a sigh of relief, realising she should have known her favourite sister would never tell
their Papa of her adventures.
She frowned. Not like her other sisters, Olga and Tatiana. Anastasia sometimes thought the
two girls soul aim in life was to make her life a misery, always getting her in strive with their
parents...not that Nicholas and Alexandra could ever expect anything else from their
mischievous youngest daughter.
"Hurry up, Malenkaya." Marie urged, grabbing her coat arm and pulling her up beside her on
the window ledge. The two friends fell silent, just content to watch the stars shine brightly down
on their homes and the high towers of St Petersburg comfort them that they would all be safe
and happy as long as they stayed inside the Palace walls.
Marie turned to her sister, her face oddly wise. "Do you feel anything, Ana?" she whispered
urgently, her saucer like blue eyes wide and curious. Anastasia inclined her head to the side
and looked at her strangely.
"Whatever do you mean?"
Marie just sighed, turning back to the city. "Something's coming, Ana. I can feel it."
Her youngest sister's eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. She quickly leaned in towards Marie and
gripped her forearm tightly, a delighted smile playing on her face. "Really, Mashka?" she asked
excitedly. "Like what?"
Marie frowned, looking deeply troubled. "For the life of me I wouldn't know, dear Shvizbik." She
started to play with her nightgown in her lap nervously until Anastasia got so tired of it she put
her own hands over her sister's to still them.
She jerked; startled to feel her usually strong sister was shaking. "Mashka, what's the matter?"
she asked in alarm, wondering if she should return inside to fetch Olga or Tatiana.
Marie turned to her sister; her eyes glittering with unshed tears. "It is the dreams, Ana. They
keep me up so late I can't get any sleep." she complained.
Anastasia leaned forward again. "Dreams?" She hissed, fascinated by the subject. "What
dreams?"
Marie sighed, leaning forward slightly to look if there were any guards on duty by the Palace
doors who might just happen to look up and see them sitting there and tell their parents.
Seeing she wasn't answering, Anastasia groaned in annoyance and thumped Marie on the
arm, getting her attention.
"What dreams, Marie!?" she asked, becoming insistent.
Her older sister didn't turn to her, just continuing to watch the sparkling city in front of them. "A
girl." she finally explained quietly. "A pretty girl with hair the colour of gold." She looked sharply
at her gaping sister, frowning to tell her to close her mouth.
Anastasia clamped her mouth shut, urging her sister to continue. "She doesn't speak, Ana."
Marie explained, biting her lip with the thought of her dream visitor. "But she seems awfully
unhappy as she sits there, staring out to space."
"Where is she?" Ana asked, her eyes huge as she struggled to take all this in.
Marie cocked her head, playing with the long strands of her curly brown hair idly. "She's in
some sort of bedroom, I know that." She huffed. "Where though, I wouldn't for the life of me
know. The room was so strange, everything was so bright and colourful." She turned to the
silent Anastasia, smiling. "Nothing we have is like that."
Her sister frowned with that, thinking they had everything. "Could she be in somewhere like
Australia?" she asked, desperate to help her troubled sister. "You remember Mama telling us
about all the odd things they have over there."
But Marie only shook her head. "I think maybe she was in America. I tend to remember a
strange looking flag."
Ana yelped in delight. "America!? Oh, my!"
Marie hushed her, her huge blue eyes darting back in their room nervously, as if she expected
her father to come barging in the doors any second. But seeing they remained where they
were, she turned back with a look of relief.
"Why are you dreaming of her, Mashka?" Anastasia asked, picking up a handful of snow and
forming a ball idly between her hands as she glanced at her long haired sister.
"I don't know, Ana. But she will affect us all, I know that now." Marie whispered in reply.
Ana gave out a very unlady-like snort and drew back her arm only to heave the snowball off the
roof and watch wickedly as it smacked into the tree, causing birds to squawk and flee madly
into the night's sky.
"How?" she finally asked, looking around for more snow.
Marie sighed, gathering her sister in her arms as they continued to watch to moon shine
proudly down on them.
"I don't know, Ana. I really don't know."
And with that, the two girl fell into silence, not knowing that soon in time a sudden meeting
would change not only their own lives, but that of their beloved family as well, forever....
PART 1
Sunnydale, America. 2001.
Buffy sighed in boredom and looked around the dark, deserted graveyard. There wasn't a
vampire in sight. Putting her hands on her hips impatiently she let out a frustrated breath of air,
searching almost desperately for something to kill.
But when she heard female laughter behind her, she quickly spun on her heals; her hands
squeezed into fist and placed in front of her chest.
She frowned when she got a good look at the laughing person's face. "Will, you really shouldn't
sneak up on people like that!" the Slayer told her best friend sternly. "I could have killed you!"
Willow just laughed, walking the rest of the way that separated them and patting Buffy in mock
pity on her arm. "You might be good, Buffy. But you not *that* good."
Buffy sniffed, battering her hand away in a fake insult. But the huge grin she had on her face
gave it all away. The two friends fell into step beside each other as they continued to walk
through the dark cemetery. Finally Buffy turned to Willow and asked,
"Were did you come from anyway?" Her eyes started to scan the distance, searching for her
other friends that she knew where all out there somewhere, patrolling.
Willow stuffed her hands into her parka pockets and jerked her head to the side. "That way
somewhere, I think." She grinned at her friend. "Riley thought we'd get more luck over by the
playground."
Buffy frowned again, not really liking how her boyfriend had seemed to take over the Slaying
from her...not like Angel had.... Buffy stiffened with that thought, shaking her head slightly.
Wouldn't she ever get over him??
"Hey, Buffy!" The familiar cry made both her and Willow turn, the figures of Riley, Tara, Xander
and Anya bringing smiles to their faces as their friends all jogged over to them.
"Did you find anything?" Riley asked, wrapping his hands around Buffy waist and leaning his
head on her shoulder. Buffy bit back a shudder, finding him far to clingy lately. But she didn't
say anything and the small group of friends all headed towards the gateway of the cemetery,
the night's Patrol well and truly over.
"Nah, the place is deserted." Buffy told her boyfriend, heaving the heavy backpack over her
shoulder as they started towards Campus. Inside where bits and pieces she had retrieved from
her mother's house before going on Patrol with her friends: photos and cards, her CD player
and a few CD's that she forgot to pack when she originally had set off for Collage.
Riley saw her discomfit and frowned in concern. "Do you want me to take it?" he asked, ever
the gentleman. But Buffy only bristled and gave him an odd look.
"Rye, I'm stronger than you, I think I can manage." He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her
sharp tone, wondering just what he had done wrong. Buffy saw this and sighed in apology as
they crossed the man street of Sunnydale, the shops dark of any life.
"Sorry, it's been a long night." Riley smiled sadly at this, rubbing her arm.
"And just think, Buff." Xander added helpfully from her side. "You only have to do the exact
same thing tomorrow night!" Buffy laughed and slapped his arm none to lightly.
"Hey!" Anya complained, inspected Xander's arm in concern. "There is only one person who
gets to wack Xander around here, and it most certainly isn't you, missy!"
Buffy held up her hands in defence, trying to hide the grin that she couldn't seem to keep of her
face. "Sorry, Anya." She kept her face serious. "I'll try to remember that in future."
Anya gave a sniff and nodded, excepting her apology, not seeing Willow and Tara cover their
mouths with their hands, the Witches bodies jerking slightly as they giggled.
Xander leered towards Buffy. "If that's the way the river runs, who gets to spank you, huh,
Buffy?"
But any reply she was going to make was cut of as the stunned Xander watched with his own
eyes as his dear friend suddenly gasped in pain and disappeared into thin air, the only trace
she had been standing there seconds before was her muddy footprints in the gutter on the
road...
****
Tsarskoe Selo. St Petersburg, Russia. 1915.
Buffy stumbled, her feet freezing almost instantly as she felt herself standing in knee-deep
snow. Raising her head she looked out desperately into the fields of white nothingness, the
mist making it so she didn't even know where the sky ended and the ground began.
"Whaaat??" she choked, looking around for any sigh of Willow, Xander, and their friends who
had been walking just beside her mere seconds before down the main street of Sunnydale
towards the dorms.
They were nowhere to been found, Buffy finally admitting to herself that she was well and truly
alone out here...wherever here was, she thought. Starting to shiver, the Slayer wrapped her
arms around her body closely, wishing suddenly that she had decided to wear warmer
clothing than the short black Singlet top she was now wearing and her tight leather pants.
She began to walk, where she didn't know, but quickly deciding that anywhere would be better
than the freezing cold she now resided in. But she had yet to take two steps when her feet
crumpled under her and she feel face first into the snow. Being a typical Californian girl that
she was, Buffy wasn't used to having these sort of conditions thrust upon her.
"Shit!" she cried, her voice muffled from the snow as she lifted her now soaked blonde head
from the wetness and brushed the fluffy white snow off her face furiously.
"When I find Giles, I'm gonna kill him." Buffy muttered, getting more madder as the minutes
ticked by and she still continued to stand in the snow, gods knows how far from the nearest
telephone. Seeing that it wasn't any good to move, the slayer looked around her at her
surroundings curiously, searching for people.
"Jeez, it's cold." she whispered, her lips turning blue as she noticed her legs go weaker.
"Whoa, there." she told herself, sinking to her knees on the white covered ground. "What until
Willow hears about this." was her last mutter as she felt her eyes go impossibly heavy and
close, her breathing weak and shallow as the cold started to take affect on her almost
uncovered body.
It was just so cold...
****
Marie closed her eyes again as the Troika flew across the icy grounds, the soft mist of snow
leaving tiny damp kisses on her cheeks, and turning her eyelashes to lace as she listened to
the horses' bells dancing in her ears like music.
Faster...faster, Marie grinned as the driver forced the shining black horses on with his whip
through the snow. As she opened her eyes again, she could see the Village just outside
Tsarskoe Selo. She smiled to herself as she squinted to see the two twin palaces just beyond
it, and pulled back one heavy fur-lined glove to see how much time it had taken to travel home
from St Petersburg.
Looking up, Marie looked out the window again, content to watch the now white trees wizz by
her line of vision as the slay hurried along the road, Marie's belly wishing she was home
already for she knew dinner would soon be on the table.
Then she caught something out of the corner of her eye, a dark bundle in the snow.
"Folkine, stop!" Marie screamed at the driver who instantly rained the whining horses with a yell.
The round old man turned just in time to see the side door fly open and the young Grand
Duchess stumble out onto the deep snow, her ankle length, white dress darkening instantly as
her weight pulled her down into the fluffy white snow.
"Your Highness, wait!" Folkine yelled, quickly making his way off the Troika as well. But Marie
ignored him, struggling to pull her short legs through the coldness as she picked up the end of
her dress and hurried towards the dark bundle lying in the snow. She didn't know what had
come over her, the Duchess knowing only to well what her father - the Tsar - would say to his
beloved daughter tramping over the frozen fields at this time. With the Great War raging around
them, none of them were safe...not that any of the Imperial family thought they would be in
danger.
But this was far from Marie's mind as she struggled over to what she now knew was a figure,
lying frozen in the snow. She was panting in exhaustion as she finally reached it, falling to her
knees beside the unmoving body, causing her long brown hair to come loose from its holdings
and fall around her face.
Reaching out with her now shivering hands, Marie firmly latched onto their shoulder and gently
pulled, causing the small body to roll over on their front.
Marie gasped.
Lying there, her eyes closed in what looked like sleep, was a beautiful blonde girl. Her lips
were blue with the cold, her cheeks having received a pink tinge. Marie gazed on in wonder,
completely unable to tear her huge blue eyes of the girl's enchanting face, her hand slowly
rising from the ground to cover her mouth in shock.
It was the girl from her dreams.
Marie barely noticed Folkine thunder across the snow in her direction and then pause, putting
his huge hands on his knees, gasping for a breath. The driver then stilled, realising for the first
time that his little charge wasn't moving...seemingly content to sit there on her knees in the
freezing snow, her graceful hand held up against her mouth in elegant surprise.
The peasant knitted his thick black eyebrows in a frown, turning his gaze towards the cause of
their current troubles. He swore when he realised the sex of the bundle, sighing in pity. What a
waste to loose such a pretty girl to nature. But knowing instantly that the young Duchess
shouldn't be exposed to such horrors, Folkine eased himself up onto his feet again and
regarded the small Princess at his feet.
He had worked for her grandfather as a boy, and his father had worked for their family before
him. Only for Marie would Folkine discard her parent's instructions and let her sit here, exposed
to the wild and alien environment that she had no part of in her normal life. Only for her would
he risk her father's ire and her mother's silent, elegant displeasure.
But Marie was his favourite of all her sisters and even their little brother...a fact that surprised
them all for everyone loved Alexei, and Folkine had to admit that he found the little
Tsarevich enchanting. Marie might have been his favourite with her large blue eyes and round,
kind face but Alexei was special. Everyone knew that.
But now he only felt pity towards the lovely girl who his wife had helped raise since birth. Slowly
bending his knees, the old man stood behind the soft brown haired girl and laid a comforting
hand on her fur-covered shoulder.
"Come, M'lady." Folkine told the shivering Duchess gently. "She is dead. There is nothing you
can do."
But the words were barely out of his mouth will the sleeping blonde girl moaned and turned her
head to the side feverly.
Marie jerked, falling back on her butt abruptly as she stared, wide eyed, at the figure who was
now weakly sobbing into the snow, her long hair encrusted with snow and her cheeks red from
the cold. The 16-year-old Duchess paled instantly and quickly reached out for the girl, sitting
on her knees and latching her arms under the blonde girl's armpits, attempting to pull her
towards the warmth of the Troika.
Folkine saw her intentions and was by her side in a flash. Stumbling, the tall man gently
pushed Marie out of the way and took her place and with a grunt, heaved the light girl into his
arms. Marie tried not to wince when she saw her head fall lifelessly to the side, her lips
seemingly getting bluer by the minute.
"What does she expect?" Folkine muttered loudly. "Wearing clothing like that in this
weather...it's a disgrace."
Marie started and as they hurried towards the waiting horses, noticed for the first time just what
sort of clothing the dream girl was actually wearing. She dropped her mouth in surprise, her big
blue eyes travelling over her short Singlet and tight leather pants. And as Folkine gently placed
her on the fur covered seat and Marie jumped in beside her, the Duchess reached out with a
curious hand a fingered the rough leather in wonder.
But whatever opinion she was about to master was abruptly cut off as the horses set off with a
slash of Folkine's whip. Wrapping her new companion up in the thick fur blanket that she knew
was under the seat, Marie tightened her grip on the side of the Troika and gazed, unable to
tear her eyes the magickal form of the girl from her dreams.
And as she heard the unmistakable sound of the Cossack Guards stopping the Troika as they
neared the Palace gates, Marie bit her lip in frustration, mentally hoping her father's guards
didn't ask Folkine why they were in such a hurry and check back with her to see just what they
were hiding.
But there was no such luck. She heard the argument that started, and sighing in fury Marie
ignored her sensibility for a moment and jumped up out of her seat...only to poke her brown
haired head out the sleigh window.
The Cossack spun around instantly, spotting her abrupt arrival out of the corner of his eye. But
when he looked closer at not only her face but the quality of her clothes his black eyes opened
wide and he stiffened to attention.
"M'lady?" he asked.
"Would you please get out of the way?" Marie snapped. "My father is expecting me to be home
for dinner and it will be you I send him to if I am late!"
The young man nodded his head slightly, understanding the order. And with a crisp salute he
stepped to the side, barking orders to his men as they followed his lead.
Marie inclined her head gracefully. "Thank you." she told him simply. Seeing that her job was
done, she disappeared back into the Troika, ignoring the confused expression of the young
man's face.
But then Folkine was off again, Marie looking up and across at the impressive twin towers that
were looming over the treetops and they raced through the pure gold gates and down the mile
long drive. She closed her eyes in dread as she spotted the almost impossibly high peaks of
the Alexander Palace as she only just then realised she had no clue what so ever what her
mother was going to say...they had too many sick people to care for as it was because of the
war.
But she quickly tightened her lips together stubbornly; gazing with tender eyes down at the
sleeping, flushed face of the girl she saved.
Marie came from a family who painted history, but in all the luxury and beauty she had seen
over the course of her life in Imperial Russia...it would be this sleeping girl who would change
her life forever.
****
The Empress Alexandra almost had a heart attack when she came flying down the grand
staircase at the raised tone of her third daughter's voice, only to spy Marie standing just inside
the front door with one of their servants, covered from head to toe in snow.
"Mashka!" Alix's displeased voice could be heard vibrating throughout the huge hallway. But
the Tsarina's cool blue-grey eyes opened wide in alarm as she noticed the black bundle in
Folkine's arms.
Marie turned just in time to see her beautiful, elegant mother come gracefully jogging down the
stairs, her floor length violet gown held up by her small, slender fingers to help her move. Marie
smiled lovingly at the dignified vision of Alix, hoping with all her heart that the Tsarina didn't turn
out their new guest.
"Mama, look!" Marie cried, running over to her mother and kissing both her cheeks in greeting.
Alix returned the gesture warmly but her daughter could see she was distracted by whatever
Folkine was still holding in his arms.
Quickly, Marie released Alix and grabbed her silk sleave, pulling her impatiently across to the
now shivering servant and the sleeping girl. Alix smiled at Folkine, telling the uncomfortable
man to relax as she slowly gazed at the beautiful blonde girl in his arms, taking in her red
cheeks and blue lips.
"Who is she, Marie?" The Empress asked her gentle daughter who had walked up hesitantly
behind her. But Marie only shrugged her shoulders, smiling at the silent maid who hurried into
the room suddenly and took her coat, releasing the long mane of light brown hair down her
back.
"I wouldn't have the slightest idea, mama." Marie told the Tsarina. "I saw her lying in the snow
on the side of they road and we stopped and got her." She bristled at her mother's suddenly
displeased expression.
"What was I suppose to do, mama?" Mashka asked. Her voice was never raised, but her
displeasure was easy to read as she looked at her. "Leave her there to die?"
Alix frowned, her cool grey eyes locked on her daughter's soft round face. "Of course not,
Mashka." The Empress told her and she smiled gently when she saw her daughter wince.
Beckoning the short girl over, Alix wrapped her arms around her shoulders and at the same
time, let Folkine up the stairs.
"I am glad you brought her here, although I wish you could have informed us sooner."
Marie didn't answer, only followed her golden haired, German mother down the deserted
hallway. She saw people stop and stare at them as they continued their journey, maids and
such. But she ignored them all, her worried eyes never leaving the frozen girl in Folkine's arms.
The three of them were silent as Alix lead them off down another passage way and stop,
poking her regal head through the door to see if anyone had taken up residence in the chosen
room.
But with a satisfied nod, the Tsarina turned to her daughter and beckoned them both in, Marie's
eyes going impossibly wide when she realised just where they now where.
It was her mother's room.
Noticing the girl's shock, Alix smiled. "It is the only place your father wouldn't look, Mashka."
she told Marie, watching nervously as the silent Folkine eased the sleeping girl down into the
Empress' own bed.
Stepping back, Marie and Alix took his place, the servant bowing respectably as Alix waved her
slender hand towards the door, telling him he could now leave. But as soon as they heard the
click of the door, the two scions began the task of removing her clothes...much to Alix's dismay.
She had taken one look at the Singlet and pants Buffy was wearing after they removed the fur
blanket she had been wrapped in and stepped back in surprise.
"Where did she even get such strange clothing?" The Empress muttered unlady- like, eyeing
the pants she now held in her hands in bewilderment. But Marie only laughed, finding the items
fascinating. With curious hands, she held the Singlet up against herself, not noticing her
mother's frown.
"Don't even think it, Marie." Alix told her in a firm tone but she was still smiling. "Your father
would have a heart attack."
Marie only smiled shyly, running to the armoire only to return with what looked like a dressing
gown. It was made of heavy white brocade silk and had a low square neck. Gently, Alix and her
daughter slipped it over Buffy's narrow shoulders and slowly leaned her back into the huge
bed.
Knowing there was nothing else they could do, the two Russians sat on the side of the bed,
Alix pulling her daughter onto her lap and wrapped her arms around her front lovingly. Marie
sighed at the gesture and leaned her head back against her mother's chest.
They had only been there for a minute or so before they heard the gentle knock on the bedroom
door. Alix jerked, her head flying gracefully towards the barrier. But swallowing, she raised her
chin and said in a crisp voice,
"Yes?"
They both saw the turning of the doorknob as they waited in dread for who was about to
enter, both woman unconsciously expecting their Tsar, Nicholas. But as the sheaf of hair
seemed to precede their visitors they both sighed in relief when the door opened and three
heads poke in curiously.
Olga, Tatiana and even the young Anastasia's mouths fell open when their eyes searched
around the room and finally rested on their mother and sister, sitting on the edge of Alix's bed,
watching the blonde figure who was shifting restlessly in the bed, her head turning from side to
side feverly.
Marie smiled at her sisters, beckoning them over even as they hesitantly left the doorway and
slowly creped over.
They were all so different, Marie mused, eyeing them kindly as the walked over, Tatiana
gripping the short Anastasia's hand in her own.
Olga, the oldest at 20, had dark blonde hair like their mother, icy blue eyes and a short nose of
which she was somewhat self-conscious. A kind person, Marie was always impressed by her
frank, honest manner. Sometimes, however, because she was the oldest, Olga could be a bit
spoiled and was constantly at odds with her mother, Alexandra. She was more close to
Nicholas and got on with him perfectly. A brilliant student, Olga was far better at her studies
than the younger three, and liked to make the fact known by teasing her sisters.
Although not Tatiana, Marie thought sullenly. They never had fights; the two older girls having
best friends since infancy just like her and Anastasia.
Tatiana though, didn't have any excuses why she wasn't as good a student than her older
sister. The 18 year old was only 18 months younger than Olga and was considered the most
beautiful of all Alexandra and the Tsar's daughters. She was tall and slender with long auburn
hair and deep-set grey eyes. Tatiana loved fashion and dressed in all the latest styles. But to
compensate for disliking her studies, the girl was an excellent artist.
With a sad frown Marie had to admit that Tatiana was also very reserved. The shy girl was
always trying to make other friends her own age but they always failed to become close.
Marie smiled as a thought suddenly came to her. Not like Anastasia. The youngest daughter
of the Tsar had always been known as the family comic. She was short, stout, with her father's
blue eyes and her mother's golden hair. Anastasia was also an accomplished mimic, her
humour often touching upon sensitive spots, and she could tease ruthlessly at times. Though
she was quite intelligent, Anastasia preferred climbing trees to her lessons and was fiercely
independent. She was a tomboy and rarely cried. Overall, Ana was a boisterous child who
loved taking pictures of her family with her camera.
But now, as the three girls reached them all Marie felt was love. Olga sat down beside her
mother and Tatiana led the gaping Anastasia over to stand at the end of the bed.
"Is she dead?" Tatiana asked quietly, eyeing Buffy critically. But Alexandra only laughed,
ruffling Marie's long hair with her hand.
"No, Tatia." her mother explained gently. "She's just very sick."
"Wherever did you find her, Mashka?" Olga abruptly asked her sister, reaching out with her
graceful hand and touching Buffy's still arm, seemingly just making sure she was real.
Frowning, Marie battered her hand away protectively.
"Me and Folkine saw her on the way back from St Petersburg." she explained, catching
Anastasia's eye and giving a slight nod.
The girl's eyes flew open in alarm, stepping forward to grip the foot of the bed as she stared
down at Buffy in a whole new light. She mouthed the words, "America?" and Marie smiled
excitedly, this whole exchange going unnoticed by the rest of the family.
"What is father going to say?" Tatiana said in a low voice, glancing at her mother with a sly
grin. But Alix only sniffed, pushing Tatiana away with a laugh.
"I'm sure he would have done the same thing."
Olga coughed, totally disagreeing and her mother gave her an odd look. But whatever further
conversation was going to follow was abruptly cut off as Buffy suddenly moaned, squeezing
her fist into balls.
The five Romanov's all turned to her expectably, waiting excitedly for her to wake up. And
under Alix's watchful gaze, Buffy sputtered and her eyes fluttered open.
She winced at the light, blinking madly to clear her vision. But when she did, the Slayer thought
she was dreaming.... for staring back at her was a beautiful middle aged woman.... and four
enchanting teenage girls, their eyes locked on her.
Buffy blinked in surprise.
*****
PART 2:
Buffy didn't know what the hell was happening. The last thing the Slayer remembered quite
clearly was the endless snow...not to mention just how bloody cold the stuff was. But now, here
she was, toasty warm, laying sprawled out in a very comfortable bed and wrapped in heavy silk
sheets and a duvet.
Overall, it was a very nice place to be.
Save for the five women staring curiously over at her from their various places around the bed.
One in particular, who was sitting in the older woman's arms, was smiling brilliantly at her and
her eyes seemed to sparkle.
Gaping, Buffy scooted up the bed to get away from them, holding the sheets close to her body
protectively. With wide, bewildered eyes she moved over all of them, wishing they would just
stop staring at her and explain who they were.
And as she had read her mind, one of the older girls leaned forward, smiled at the Slayer kindly
and spoke a few quick words the Buffy had never heard before.
Marrying her brows together in confusion, she asked, "What?"
Her response was immediate. The girl's face lit up in charmed surprise before quickly and
effortlessly switching languages. Laughing, she told the baffled Slayer in heavy English, "I'm
sorry, we didn't realise you didn't speak Russian."
Snorting, Buffy crossed her arms across her chest defensively and tried to not think of the
slightly distressing fact that she was obviously laying in one of their beds. "Why in the world
would I speak *Russian* or all languages?" she asked them in an odd tone.
But as if it was obvious, the girl looked quickly at the others before turning back to Buffy.
Speaking with a strong accent that Buffy had strangely not noticed before now, she told her
bluntly...
"Because we *are* Russian."
******
Marie didn't know why the girl was so stunned by Olga's reply, but her mouth fell open and
without a word, she threw back the heavy covers that had before this kept her confined to the
huge bed, and with speed Marie found quite unusual, she jumped out of the bed and sprinted
off across the bedroom in the direction of the large, French windows, making the long
nightgown that she and her mother, Alexandra, had spend ages putting her in fly out behind
her. All of the Romanov woman watched, not quite knowing exactly what to do, as their strange
visitor stopped before the windows and threw them open, completely ignoring the thick blanket
of snow-drops that flew into the bedroom suddenly.
Then she froze, both of her now freezing hands still griping the window latches on either side
so tightly that her knuckles were white. She didn't move, just stood there in the freezing air,
staring out of the palace window down onto the streets of Russia's majestic capital, St
Petersburg.
Slowly, as if she was frightened to scare the bird, Marie got up from her mother's lap and softly
padded across the carpet, wincing as the still wet clothes she had been wearing since the find
slapped against her skin. But trying to ignore it, she reached the suddenly shaking girl and
stood silently behind her, knowing that the rest of her family were watching them from back at
the bed. Reaching out with her delicate hand, she rested it on Buffy's shaking shoulder and
gave her a squeeze of comfort.
The girl's shoulders seemed to sag with the touch and Marie breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Coming to standing beside the slightly taller blonde, the Princess joined her as they both stared
out the window onto their royal village, Tsarskoe Selo and of course, St Petersburg.
The city shone back at them in all its glory, the unmistakable Russian domes of the Cathedral
that was the centre of their lives shooting up proudly into the frozen sky like some mystical
castle of a fairy tale. Looking at the city like this had always held a strange appeal to Marie, she
didn't know why. But it was probably something to do with the fact that no other city in the world could match the simply stunning beauty and elegance that St Petersburg had held since its
founder by her ancestor hundreds of years before.
"Where am I?" The girl suddenly whispered in an awed voice, Marie frowning slightly with the
strange lift in her accent. But not wanting to insult her with what was obviously her native
tongue, Mashka smiled softly and lifted her hand, seeing the slight turn of her companion's
eyes as she too, watched the snow flakes dance beautifully and come to a soft end on her
outstretched palm.
"Your in Russia...do you like it?" Marie couldn't wait for her answer.
But the American didn't reply straight away, her bewildered gaze travelling slowly over the
Golden Gates that separated Tsarskoe Selo from the rest of the city that could just been made
out on the horizon.
"It's the coolest thing I have *ever* seen."
Marie gave a tinkering laugh, not understanding her wording but getting the main idea. But
when the girl suddenly sighed and turned back towards them, she sobered up, putting on a
straight face as she regarded her with critical eyes.
"But that still doesn't explain just *where* I am...not to mention who you guys are." She threw
up her hands in annoyance and slowly made her way back towards the warmth of the bed,
leaving Marie to quickly pull shut the windows behind them.
"The last thing I remember is the snow..." She sent baffled looks around the impressive
Empress' bedroom, noting the large framed originals that hung from the beautifully painted
walls and the impressive drapes and even the large wardrobe that she found on her travels.
Empress Alix just gave a charmed laugh as Buffy finished and sat back down on the bed, up
against the headboard. She sat there, arms crossed once again over her chest, waiting for
someone to explain.
"Marie found you almost catching your death out there in the wilderness..." she smiled gently.
"You would have surely died if not been found."
Buffy gave a sigh and asked bluntly, "Who's Marie? Sorry, I didn't catch your names."
Alix raised her eyebrows in surprise, surely thinking that the girl should know just who they
were, even if she was obviously American. But deciding to indulge the blonde, she pointed one
delicate finger backwards and tapped herself on her chest lightly.
"My name is Alexandra and these are my daughters..." she ruffled Marie's hair and smiled.
"Marie, Olga...and that's Anastasia and Tatiana over there." she replied, jerking her head in the
two silent girls direction from where they sat on the end of the bed, Anastasia leaning her head
up against her sister's shoulder.
Buffy looked at the each in turn, smiling in greeting. "I'm Buffy." she told them quietly, still totally bewildered by the fact that she was here in the first place.
Marie frowned at her name. "Is that your real name? Or is it short for Elizabeth?" she asked,
thinking the obvious. But the Slayer bristled, rolling her eyes.
"No. As weird as it may seem, Buffy's my real name."
The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise, noting that her mother and Olga did the same.
Catching their glances, Buffy smiled and gave a little laugh. "Blame my mother." was all she
said and was strangely accepted by the woman.
The room fell into a comfortable silence before Tatiana quietly spoke up in her soft voice, "Do
you have any recognition as to how you came to be here?"
Buffy just shrugged her shoulders casually, turning to look at the pretty, dreamy eyed girl of 18.
With a sad look on her face, she replied, "No actually. The last thing I remember is walking
down to street with my friends, then bang!...you know the rest."
Alexandra frowned, leaning forward to place the back of her hand gently on Buffy's forehead.
"You must have fainted." she told the girl, at the same time running other possible answers in
her in her head, just the same as Buffy was.
Pulling back, she sighed. "Well, you don't have a fever, so that's good." But then she frowned
at Buffy, putting her hands on her hips. "What were you doing walking around the streets for at
this time of the night? Do you have any idea the danger you could have put yourself in."
Buffy looked at her in surprise. She sounded just like her mother, Joyce. But knowing
Alexandra obviously thought Buffy was talking about being in Russia when she talked, the
Slayer wisely clamped her mouth shut before she revealed too much to her. All she needed to
do was find the nearest link with the Watchers Council and arrange for a plane ticket home to
America so she could yell at Giles for screwing up whatever he had been trying to do behind
her back and accidentally sending her here! She had never really had a yearn to see Russia
anyway, especially now that she had seen just how badly they dressed. They looked like
something out of a history book!
"Especially with the war on..." she smiled a sad smile. "The streets just are not as safe as they
used to be."
Buffy looked at her oddly, not remembering hearing anything about a Russian war on the news
when she did actually get around to watching it. "What war?" she asked them.
They all choked, sending disbelieving looks in her direction. She saw the youngest girl,
Anastasia, she thought her name was, get up from her spot and walk around her side of the
bed, Buffy's eyes glued on her face the whole time. She stopped by the Slayer, leaning forward
so that their faces were just inches away and stared into Buffy's face with her own huge blue
eyes.
"Are you sick or something? What do you mean what war?" she asked bluntly with her childlike
voice. "There has only been one! The Great War of course."
Now, Buffy might not have been very good at history, but if there was one thing that she
remembered from all of her and Willow's study sessions, it was that *that* name was only used
for one war...and that was World War One.
"Pardon me!?" she practically yelled, her eyes popping. But then, as she looked once again at
the five females state of clothing; their long, white dresses that had more lace on them than
Buffy had on her christening dress, their strange manner of speech; so formal and polite...it all
seemed to fall into place.
She moaned, covering her face with her hand, knowing that her problem had just gotten a
whole lot worse.
******
Buffy was not amused.
Of all the things she had had to face of the years of being the Slayer; burning down the gym at
her old school, getting killed by the Master, killing Angel then getting him back..only to lose him
once again down the track...nothing could have prepared her for the shock she felt when she
realised suddenly that she had been thrown back in time.
Not just any time, mind you...but Russia, 1915, in the middle of the bloody First World War.
Over all...the Slayer knew she was screwed.
And here she was, laying in a bed surrounded by four of the loveliest girls she had ever seen
and their mother; people who have just saved her from freezing to death out in the snow where
she had been dumped...trying to decided quickly just how much she should tell them about
who she was.
She had no doubt that they wouldn't have a clue what she was talking about, they already
thought she was mad for having no idea what so ever that there was a war raging around her
ears!
"Ahh, i've been out of touch from normal society for a long time," she told them quickly, as it
was the best excuse she could think up on the spot. "We didn't know anything about a war."
Alix still looked at her in disbelief. "That is the oddest thing I have ever heard, my girl. How long
have you been in Russia?"
Buffy gave an ironic laugh. "Not long, believe me."
Looking over their faces, Buffy stopped on the girl from the window, Marie. She was staring at
her strangely and Buffy had no doubt what so ever that she knew she was lying to her mother.
Wincing, she looked away quickly, turning her attention back to Alexandra who was still
speaking.
"Do you have anywhere to stay?" she asked in her heavy English and the Slayer grimaced,
only then realising that she spoke the truth. She had been so preoccupied by the fact that she
was here in the *first place*, her only thought had been how she was going to get home to
Giles and Willow and the others. But knowing now that might end up taking more time than she
would have originally liked, Buffy shook her head at the kind looking Tsarina.
"No actually."
Anastasia was off the bed in a shot. Clapping her hands, she begged her mother, "Please,
mama? Can Buffy stay here with us?" She stopped, her eyes going wide as she hurried to
make the plans in her head concerning the fact that only her and her darling Marie knew just
who the girl really was.
"She can stay with Mashka, and me mama! Our rooms big enough to fit *all* us girlies!"
Olga chuckled and with the maturity that came with being the oldest, she tried to calm her
youngest sister as Tatiana and Marie looked on smiling. "Don't you think Buffy would like her
own room, Ana? After all, we have over a hundred in the palace, I think it would only be fair."
Anastasia stopped her jumping and sulked, sending pleading glances in the Slayer's direction.
But the bewildered Buffy just looked at Marie again, and although her face was strangely calm
and blank of any emotion, Buffy could tell that she too, wanted desperately for her to take up
her little sister's offer...but for reasons that were totally different from Anastasia's.
Not taking her eyes of Marie's face, Buffy slowly nodded her head. "Sure, Ana. I'd love to sleep
in your room." Then quickly, she looked at the grinning Tsarina and added quickly, "Only if
that's alright with you, of course."
But Alexandra only smiled and nodded her head. "Of course it is, my girl."
Anastasia gave a yelp and started to jump up and down again, then quickly rushed over to
Buffy and threw her arms around her neck and gave the baffed Slayer a huge hug and three
Russian kisses; one to either check then a quick peck on her lips.
"This is going to be great!" she raved. "You'll see!"
Buffy just looked sadly at the excited 14 year old, smiling softly as her long hair flew out behind
her as she spun around in circles. It only then figured to the American that she didn't really
know any thing about this family except their first names. Although deep down she knew she
probably wouldn't be here long enough *to* learn anything about this beautiful family, she did
know she would miss them already when she found a way back to her world...not that she had
the first clue how she was going to do that yet.
Anastasia abruptly halted when there was a crisp knock on the door. Alexandra turned her
head gracefully towards it and asked, "Yes?"
The door slowly opened and Buffy saw a timid, young, black haired girl enter the room and
walk briskly across the floor to where the Tsarina was sitting. Bending down, she whispered
something in Alix's ear and then straightened. The Empress' face brightened suddenly as she
waved the maid out of the room. Standing, she turned to the five girls and looked mostly to her
daughters as she told them all,
"Baby's awake." She stood quickly and helped Buffy out of the bed, producing a thick, floor
length dressing gown for the baffled girl and eased it over her shoulders.
"Come." she told the Slayer as Marie and her sisters all hurried to the door. "I'd like you to meet
the other members of our family."
*****
As the Empress gently hurried the Slayer out the bedroom door, Buffy got the first glimpse of
the home that she would be staying in until she found away to get home to the 21 century.
If you could call it a home, that is.
It was more like a castle.
A palace to be exact. As the hurried down the hallway, the other girls already out of sight, Buffy
gaped at the shear size of the place. To her guess, they were on the third story, the huge grand
staircase winding its way down to the biggest marble floored foyer Buffy had ever seen. It was
bigger than her entire *house*.
There were closed doors everywhere, the roof higher than a church's and the chandlers that
fell from them bigger than her and Willow's bedroom back at the dorms. It was simply the
beautiful and grandest place she had ever seen.
Knowing she would just *have* to give herself the tour later, Buffy let to Empress guide her
down the corridor and through a door at its end. Looking up, she knew instantly that this was a
child's bedroom, the blue walls and toys that scattered the floor evidence of that. Looking
around, she saw the four girls all gathering around a small bed that was in the corner of the
pretty room, talking and laughing with whoever was in it.
Buffy caught a quick glimpse of a man sitting on a chair at the bedside through Tatiana's dress
before he vanished again. But when the girls suddenly parted and he stood up, Buffy didn't
catch his face instantly. But then, as he started to walk towards her and Alix, she looked
up...and found herself staring up and the kindest, gentlest face she had ever seen.
Stunned into silence, she watched the dignified man reach them and embrace Alix, giving her a
loving hug and a kiss on the forehead. Buffy could tell instantly that the two of them were
deeply in love. But when he turned his gaze of her, his eyes sizing her up and down before
smiling, she had no idea that standing before her was one of the most powerful men in the
world. A figure who made history to her and her generation, but who stood there now in flesh
and blood. He was the Autocratic man who ruled one sixth of the globe...the Tsar of all Imperial
Russia.
"Hello." he told her quietly, picking up her hand gently to place a kiss of its surface.
"My lovely wife tells me that we have a visitor staying with us."
Buffy blushed, ducking her head. But the man only chuckled, placing a finger underneath her
chin and pushing it up, forcing her to lock eyes.
"It's fine, my girl. A pleasure, even." He smiled again before suddenly bowing in front of her
gracefully. Straightening up, he told the strangely silent Slayer...
"Its a charming pleasure to have such a beautiful American staying in my household...My name
is Nicholas. Nicholas Romanov."
And Buffy felt her blood run cold.
******
Buffy never thought she was overly good at history; it was one of her worst subjects actually.
But there was one topic that she remembered quiet clearly...having Willow there to teach it to
you did that, she figured.
And that was the Russian Revolution.
She knew the name Nicholas Romanov, or course, who didn't? And as she stood there, her
now terrified eyes locked on his own gentle ones, she knew how this story would play out...And
most importantly...
...she knew the horrifying ending.
The figure in the bed caught her attention and she jerked her hand out of Nicholas' grasp.
Turning her head quickly, she was stunned to see a little boy, no older than 11, laying there
watching her silently. He had the face of an angel. Blonde hair and shinning blue eyes stared at
her curiously.
She knew before asking that this little boy, lying weakly in the bed, was the centre of this
family's lives. She knew that his sisters worshipped him and that he was his parent's pride and
joy.
"Hello." he said, simply like his father. "I'm Alexei. Are you going to be staying with us?"
Buffy didn't reply, she couldn't. And it was at that moment that she knew she didn't want to be
here; she would rather be anywhere else but here. To see this little boy's shining face, his
delicate fingers gently gripping around hers when she slowly sank down in the chair that
Nicholas had been sitting in moments before, and to know that it would be him, this boy who
seemed to be bathed in sunshine, who would be the direct link that destroyed his father's
reign...and his beloved family's deaths.
For she knew, that in just over three years time, this family would be the centre of one of the
greatest murders, the greatest *mysteries* the world have ever seen.
And the Slayer closed her eyes in dread.