I know, I know. I am so sorry, I promise I tried to get this up quickly. Grad school is kicking my butt.
No matter how hard she tried, Anastasia simply couldn't adjust to having half of her family missing. It struck her as backwards and extremely unfair that she was not able to seek comfort from her parents at the time she needed them most. Without her parents there, she felt lost.
And without Maria, she simply felt unbalanced. For her entire life, she and Maria had been the Little Pair, two halves of a whole. Though she loved her brother dearly, she had always felt closest to Maria. They had shared everything, from a bedroom to secrets, and without her there it felt as if the world had been turned inside out.
Olga and Tatiana were no comfort at all. They alternated between leaving her alone and smothering her, and both were exhausting in their own way. The irony was not lost on her that if Maria was there, she would have known exactly what to say and do. It was not that Olga or Tatiana cared less than Maria, but simply that they did not possess her intuition as far as Anastasia was concerned.
Even Dmitry was getting on her nerves. He tended to hover around her, even when she insisted she was fine and didn't need a second shadow following her around. She knew he was only trying to be helpful, but he was treating her like she would break at the smallest of touches. Though she was still rather distraught in the absence of her parents and sister, she didn't need someone to do everything for her. In fact, she would have welcomed any distraction she could find if they had all not been done for her.
The only one who seemed to understand her was Alexei, who spent the day after the separation absolutely inconsolable. She and Dmitry had tried a number of things to get a reaction out of him, but he had remained almost catatonic in his grief. In the end, Anastasia had climbed into his bed with him and they'd laid like that for the rest of the day.
In the days since, however, more changes had been made to their living arrangements. Many of their servants, those that remained anyway, were suddenly moved into the Governor's house, onto mattresses and couches and anywhere else the soldiers could find room for them. When asked, the soldiers only gave vague half-answers as to why they were cramming so many people into the house. Anastasia could only assume it was because it would be easier to keep track of all of them, but she wondered why that was necessary all of a sudden.
With so many more hands around the house to do menial tasks like laundry, cleaning, and cooking, Anastasia often found herself drifting aimlessly from room to room. Sometimes she sat with Alexei for a while, but with the Big Pair caring for him all the time, it quickly became unbearable for her to be there for long stretches of time. She could only stick around long enough to make him smile a little and maybe read with him a bit before she had to flee or else risk being smothered by her sisters.
The only comfort she could find was that they had a little news of their family. Maria had been clever enough to send a note back with one of the men who had escorted them away, telling them that the roads had been terribly bumpy and nearly unusable. After that a few telegraphs came informing them of their family's whereabouts and wellbeing on various trains and boats. It had been a few days since they had heard anything, though, and Anastasia was beginning to grow worried.
She could feel herself growing more restless with each passing day. She didn't even have any new books to read to ease the unrelenting boredom and worry. The entire situation made her want to scream. She wished with all her heart that their captivity would end soon, and that her family would be reunited once again.
Tatiana, who had been dutifully reading each newspaper they were provided with, had been speculating that perhaps their Papa had been needed in Moscow. It made sense, she supposed. She had overheard some guards saying that Lenin wanted to put her Papa on trial, and Moscow was the new capital according to his government. She could only hope that if that were the case, they were merciful to her family.
There were no guarantees, of course, but Anastasia thought that they could all be happy living in exile as normal people. They would never be allowed to stay in Russia, but perhaps they would go to Paris with Nana, or to England where Mama was raised and Papa had cousins. They had all thought about that idea before, and she knew they were all in favor of that outcome. She herself had thought about that outcome more than she cared to admit. Then again, at this point she thought she would take any outcome that allowed her family to live and be together.
She caught sight of Dmitry carrying a tray of tea into her brother's room, bearing a smile so bright that anyone with eyes could tell it was forced. She knew Dmitry was only trying to reassure Alexei that everything would be fine, but her brother was only ill, not dumb. Sometimes she thought he was too smart for his own good, but people seemed to forget that fact when he was sick. They babied him and she knew how much he hated it. Dmitry meant well, they all did, but they weren't going to help Alexei get well that way. All their doting would do nothing to help him if he had no will to do anything but sulk.
Anastasia squared her shoulders and strode toward her brother's room, determined to get him to laugh.
Dmitry was running out of ideas of how he could help. No matter what he tried or how much he gave, it never felt like he was doing enough.
Botkin was doing everything he could to keep Alexei comfortable, but the boy still had trouble straightening his leg, and didn't seem to want to be bothered with anything. Dmitry tried not to let himself get discouraged from the lack of response he got from Alexei, determined to at least keep his spirits high enough to help him heal faster.
The sisters seemed to be of the same mind, though they had the luxury of splitting up their tasks between the three of them. Tatiana, true to form, was the one who enforced the rules. She gave him his medicine like clockwork each day, and Alexei knew better than to argue with her. It almost seemed funny to him that Tatiana, the second-born, had taken up the role of head of the household instead of Olga in their parents' absence. And no one seemed to question it, not even Yakovlev and his soldiers.
But if Tatiana was there to govern, then Olga was there to listen. She was the balm that soothed him when Tatiana was too bossy, and the one to talk Alexei down when he got in the mood to snap back. Despite looking rather drained, she was the voice of reason for all of them. Dmitry did have a bit of trouble reconciling this version of her with the one he had grown up with, who would have talked back to Tatiana all she wanted. But they all had a habit of being overly selfless when it came to Alexei.
It was Anastasia he was worried about. She had always been an excellent actress, and now was no exception. He watched as she put on a brave face for him and her siblings every day. She joked and laughed and acted like a fool in front of Alexei. If he hadn't known her as well as he did, he might have believed she was perfectly fine.
It was the way her shoulders were always held just a little stiffer than normal and the dark circles that appeared under her eyes that told him she was still suffering from the separation. It was in the way she simply seemed to droop when she looked at the chair where Maria had always sat during meals. Most of all, it was in the way she latched onto Alexei.
The worst part was Dmitry couldn't do anything to fix it. He wished he could just wave his hands and make everything alright again, make their family together again and Nicholas the Tsar. He longed for the days of his childhood when things were simpler and none of them had had to worry about anything.
So, it came as a relief when they finally got another letter from Maria. The envelope, already opened, had been dropped so casually in front of Tatiana at breakfast that initially none of the siblings paid it any mind. They were far too used to their mail being opened before receiving it at that point.
It was only when Tatiana went to move it off the newspaper that she recognized the handwriting and gasped, getting the attention of her sisters.
"It's a letter!" she exclaimed, and Olga and Anastasia had not needed any more explanation than that.
"Read it!" Anastasia demanded, nearly toppling her chair over as she rushed around to Tatiana's side and made a grab for the letter. "What does it say?"
"Patience!" Tatiana reprimanded her, holding the envelope out of Anastasia's reach. Anastasia huffed, but only tapped her toe against the ground as her sister gingerly removed the letter from the envelope and unfolded it.
Barely a second had passed before Dmitry watched all three of their faces simply crumple. Anastasia looked like she was about to start crying, and he felt his stomach drop to his toes. He wondered what the letter could possibly say to make them all look like that, but then Anastasia snatched the letter out of Tatiana's hand and pressed it to her nose.
"It's smells like Mashka," she moaned.
"She must have sprayed it with her perfume," Tatiana said.
Dmitry realized her eyes were watering as well.
"Don't inhale the paper," Olga chided her sister with a paper-thin smile. "We still want to hear what she wrote." Anastasia nodded and took one last sniff before handing the letter back to Tatiana.
"My dear sisters," she read aloud.
I miss you all terribly and am praying I finally hear back from you soon . I feel the journey to this place was especially awful because we were separated.
Mama, Papa and I are trying to settle in as best as we can. Our beds were finally delivered to the House of Special Purpose, so we no longer have to sleep on a pile of blankets and coats. Isn't that just a dreadful name to give a place? I've been trying to think of another name to call it, but I'm afraid I'm not creative enough. We'll have to come up with one together.
Give Alexei a kiss for me. I do hope he's beginning to feel better. Mama is simply distraught about leaving him alone, and I don't know how to help. We three and eager for the day you join us and we are together again.
All my love,
Your Maria
"The House of Special Purpose?" Anastasia repeated, sounding disgusted. "Why on earth would they call it that?"
"She didn't say where they are," Olga said, reaching for the envelope and turning it over.
"Maybe she said in previous letters," Tatiana mused, though she seemed to be speaking more to herself.
"But this is the first letter you've gotten," Dmitry chimed in.
"Yes, but look at what she says." Tatiana slid the letter over to him, her finger pointing to the very first sentence. "She wrote she hopes she finally hears from us. That implies she's written before, and we simply didn't receive her letters."
"They're in Yekaterinburg," Olga said, her brows furrowed together. "But I thought they were going to go to Moscow. What could they possibly be doing out there?"
