Hello! I have returned and caught up on my schoolwork! This isn't the longest chapter ever, but it was a good stopping point. Hope you guys like it!


When word broke of the Tsar's abdication and the family's subsequent house arrest, many of the palace's staff fled. Only a few remained, including Dr. Botkin, a few ladies in waiting, and Dmitry. The phone lines were cut, and the palace's food supplies were dwindling. Dmitry's 18th birthday arrived and passed without much notice, and he didn't care at all. The old palace guards, those few who were still loyal to the former Tsar and his family, were forced to leave by decree of the provisional government. He had watched from an upstairs window as the new guards arrived and immediately made themselves at home in the palace. Dmitry had heard that they were entirely loyal to the revolutionaries, and that didn't bode well for the former imperial family.

Anastasia and Maria were still confined to their beds, though their temperatures were finally coming down. Olga, Tatiana and Alexei, however, had taken to hovering near the door during the day, adamant that they would be there to welcome their father home when he finally arrived. They spent long hours wandering from room to room near the front of the palace, talking quietly to each other in Russian.

Dmitry thought it was almost a little strange. He was so used to them chattering away in various languages to each other, but the new guards had told them they were only supposed to speak Russian now. They explained it as a nationalistic pride issue- good Russians should be proud of their language and heritage, but Dmitry suspected it was more that the guards wanted to be able to understand what the family was saying at all times. Now the only times they were permitted to speak other languages were during their lessons, which Alexandra stubbornly insisted they keep up with.

"What's the point?" Alexei whined to Dmitry one day. "We're never going to have to use those languages anymore. Who knows if they'll ever even let us leave this palace again?"

"You don't know that they won't," Dmitry said. "Maybe when your father comes back they'll decide to let us live in exile." He didn't really believe a word he was saying, though, and judging by the look on his face he wasn't fooling Alexei either.

"Who says the new government will let you live at all?" jeered a guard from the doorway. A few of them strode into the room, smirking at Dmitry and Alexei. "If I were in charge, you'd all be floating in the Neva by now."

"Please, they'd never let a troll like you lead a country," Alexei said coldly, and Dmitry sucked in a sharp breath. The guard strode over and grabbed Alexei by the shirt collar, hoisting him up. Dmitry leapt to his feet and grabbed the guard's arm, but was quickly restrained by another.

"Listen here, you pompous brat," the guard snarled in Alexei's face. "Your precious Papa isn't the Tsar anymore. You know what that means? You are just another citizen. In fact, I now outrank you, and you have to show me respect."

"Respect is earned, not blindly given," Alexei said evenly, never breaking eye contact with the guard. He was rewarded with a slap across the face, and his head snapped to the side. A flash of heat ran down Dmitry's spine as he worried about the guards causing another bleed.

"Don't you talk back to me, boy," the guard said as Alexei turned to glare at him again. "But you're right about one thing. Respect is earned, and your father never earned it from the people. It's all his fault you're here now. How does that feel? How does it feel to be nothing?" The other guards jeered and snickered, and Alexei finally looked away from the guard. Dmitry felt fury bubble up inside him. Even he had to admit that Nicholas had been a rather ineffectual Tsar, but his children were innocent. Dmitry managed to shake off the guard who was restraining him and shoved the guard holding Alexei, who dropped Alexei's collar and stumbled back a step.

"Hey ugly," Dmitry growled at the guard. "Leave the kid alone, he has nothing to do with any of this and you know it. Pick on someone your own size."

"Like you?" the guard sneered at him. "What are you going to do about it, boy? You're basically the family's lap dog." The guards laughed at him, and out of the corner of his eye Dmitry saw Alexei look up sharply.

"Better a lap dog than a mindless drone," Dmitry said. There was a flurry of motion. Dmitry's arms were twisted behind his back, making him bite back a yell, and the guard in front of him grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tight.

"No!" Alexei cried, but he was knocked to the ground and ignored.

"Be careful how you speak to me, boy," he hissed in his ear. His breath smelled of stale tobacco and Dmitry tried not to gag. "You are a prisoner of the state, now, a traitor to the Russian people for your loyalty to the monarchy. You would be wise to remember that." Dmitry glared at the guard with as much hate as he could muster, then spat in his face.

All of the guards froze, and Dmitry only had a split second of satisfaction before he was forced to the ground. He was grabbed by the hair roughly, and the guard in front of him yanked Dmitry's head down as he brought his knee upward. With a sickening crunch, Dmitry's face smashed into the guard's knee, and his nose began to gush blood. He couldn't hold back the howl of pain that escaped his lips, and then his head was pulled back up, forcing him to look up at the guards.

"You think you're such a big man, don't you?" the guard snarled in his face. "Standing up for the former Tsar and his family. Pathetic." Dmitry was punched in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to double over. Dmitry coughed and gasped for breath, his blood flecking the guards' boots.

"What is the meaning of this?" a voice demanded from the doorway. Olga and Tatiana stood there, both looking equally shocked at the scene in front of them.

"This is nothing that concerns you," the guard said coolly. Tatiana narrowed her eyes at the guards.

"I would beg to differ," Tatiana said with a hard edge to her voice. Olga strode forward and knelt next to Alexei, who was clutching his knee and desperately trying not to cry in front of the guards. She looked between her brother and Dmitry then stood, drawing herself up as tall as she could.

"Let him go," Olga commanded. "Your orders were to make sure we don't leave the palace, not to beat a servant senseless and injure my brother."

"No, but we do have the authority to punish any insubordination," the guard said stiffly. Nevertheless, the hands released Dmitry, though he was shoved to the ground and one of the guards stepped deliberately on his hand as they left the room. Tatiana rushed to help him up, dabbing at his nose with her sleeve.

"Mitya," she said, "that was incredibly foolish, even for you."

"You don't even know what happened," Dmitry grumbled, wincing as he pushed her hand away.

"We heard most of it, it's not like the rooms are sound proof," Olga said, helping Alexei stand. He wouldn't or couldn't put any weight on his left leg, and leaned heavily on his eldest sister.

"You shouldn't provoke them," Tatiana chided him, reaching up to his nose again. Dmitry caught her wrist and lowered it, ignoring the eyebrow she arched at him.

"Leave it," he said. "I'll be fine. We should take Alexei to Dr. Botkin, though."

"I hate to break it to you, Dmitry, but I'm pretty sure your nose is broken," Tatiana said. "It'll heal crooked if you leave it that way. Not to mention the pain you'll be in."

"I'll be fine," he repeated, but he followed Tatiana and Olga from the room. Between the three of them they managed to get Alexei up the stairs and into Anastasia and Maria's room, where both Dr. Botkin and Alexandra were tending to them. Maria, no longer delirious from the fever, gaped at them as they entered, and even Anastasia eyed Dmitry's bloodstained shirt warily. Both of the adults jumped up when the four of them entered, fussing over Alexei and Dmitry. Alexei was guided out of the room by Dr. Botkin, leaving Dmitry to be tended to by Alexandra.

"What happened to the two of you?" Alexandra demanded, examining Dmitry's nose.

"I'm fine," Dmitry continued to insist. "Alexei is the one who needs to be looked at. One of the guards shoved him to the ground, and I think he landed badly on his knee. I should go get his wheelchair."

"Dr. Botkin is taking care of him, now hold still," she said. She dabbed at his nose with a piece of cloth, trying to slow the bleeding. She used the softest touch imaginable, yet Dmitry still winced every time she touched his nose. Alexandra shook her head.

"It's definitely broken," she announced.

"I told you," Tatiana said from where she was perched on Maria's bed. "I told him, Mama." Dmitry shot her a look and she merely grinned at him.

"One of the guards did this to him," Olga said, sounding outraged.

"The guards?" Maria asked. She shook her head, frowning. "Surely they wouldn't, right?"

"Well they did," Dmitry ground out as Alexandra continued to fuss over his nose.

"Hold still," she chided him, grasping the bridge of his nose between two of her knuckles and bracing her other hand against his forehead. Dmitry opened his mouth to say something, but it was lost in his yell of shock and pain as Alexandra yanked his nose forward with a muffled crunch while the hand on his forehead kept him from leaning forward.

"It's not perfectly straight, but it'll do. Now," she said, dabbing at the trickle of blood still coming out of his nose, "are you ready to tell me what happened?" She looked at him expectantly, and Dmitry looked away.

"I provoked them," he admitted. "I spat in one of their faces."

"But that's not the whole story!" Tatiana cried, standing up. "Olga and I heard most of it, Mama. The guards were teasing Alexei, and they were hurting him. Dmitry was only trying to defend him."

"Is this true?" Alexandra asked, looking back to Dmitry. He only shrugged, uncomfortable by her staring, and was surprised when she hugged him tightly. It lasted for only a second, he didn't even have time to hug her back, but when she pulled away she clasped his hand firmly between her own and he met her gaze once more.

"Thank you," she said, and he understood that she meant for more than defending her son.