AN: This chapter is being posted on the 110th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic, April 15, 2022. While we all have fun here writing our fanfictions and creating our own stories, we should remember that these people we write about were real. They lived, and a good many of them died on that cold April night in 1912. I feel that when writing about historical figures, especially those who lost their lives in a tragedy like this, one should take care and concern, understanding that these were real people, with read lives. I hope that I have managed to convey that respect that I have for those who lost their lives in this tragedy, and that I have portrayed them appropriately. Especially William Murdoch, the real man, whose reputation suffered greatly at the hands of Mr. Cameron to the point that many equate the movie with the actual historical events. In this I have tried to portray what his life would have been if he had survived, and I hope that is appreciated.


Taking the rail car back to New York early in the morning meant yet another round of poker, Mother and Will seemed to be obsessed with beating each other. Mother had even upended her coin purse to use for bets, and had ordered me to be the dealer. It proved to be a simple task, simply laying out the cards and ensuring that the two of them followed the standard procedures. By the last hand the few coins in front of Mother were dwarfed by Will's pile. He grinned at her over the coins, "Mrs. Dalian, you play like a card shark."

"And you play like a bored sailor." Mother snapped back, throwing her last coins in. "I have no doubt you've played many hands with your fellow officers, you're deliberately fleecing me."

Will chuckled, throwing a few more coins in before revealing his hand. "Ah, a flush. I believe that beats your two pair." I shook my head as I gathered the cards back in front of me, watching as Will began to sort out the coins by amount and stack them. "Would you like these back, Mrs. Dalian?"

"Keep them Mr. Murdoch, I'll win them back on our way up." Mother said as she got up from the table, settling herself on the bench with a magazine. We were getting close to the city, the train slowing somewhat as we entered the outer limits. It was less than an hour before we were in the auto, chugging along to the Fifth Avenue house. Mother looked to Will, sat across from us in the cab. "I hope you do not mind Mr. Murdoch, but I will be keeping Anastasia. She has her fitting this afternoon."

"Of course not," Will nodded, "I am sure I shall find something to occupy myself with until your return."

"I hope so, for it will probably be quite late." The stop at the house took only a moment, as did the trip to the designer Mother had chosen. I took in the massive windows that fronted the office, sketches and drawings of elaborate dresses displayed prominently. She gave a laugh at seeing my gaping expression, "Paul is quite extravagant, I have a feeling you two shall get along famously."

"Paul?" I asked as an attendant opened the door to usher us in. "How long have you been planning this that you're calling him by his first name?"

"Since you telegrammed that you were engaged." Mother sniffed, sweeping through a floor teeming with customers, salesmen and shop girls. I tried to take in everything as I followed her, the draped fabrics of dresses that brushed across the carpeted floors, the glittering jewelry displayed in glass topped cabinets. And hats, endless hats, on shelves, on stands, even placed on pillars as if they were an ancient sculpture.

Mother ignored all of it, giving our name to a manager, who quickly led us back into the workrooms behind the storefront. Seamstresses bustled by carrying bolts of fabric, rich silks and plain cottons. We passed a room of women doing nothing bust dressing hats, feathers and flowers quickly placed and sewn down. The manager finally stopped, opening a door and bowing as we passed through. It seemed the strangest combination of a fitting room and an office, high windows letting in light. A rather portly, older man was behind a cherry desk, his fingers flying over a sketch in front of him. I watched the plain figure suddenly be surmounted by a massive hat, drawing attention to the slim skirts that swirled around its feet.

Only after the last line had been drawn did he look up, "Ruth, darling." He stood, coming to bend over Mother's hand. "And this must be Anastasia, lovely to finally meet you dear." He bowed over mine, then stood, considering me for a moment. "Hmm, the plain whites will not work with your coloring. Not at all. Cindy!" He called, sending a shop girl that I hadn't noticed scurrying forward. "Take the whites off the table, bring in some more of the creams and ivories." She nodded, darting over to a table and beginning o remove bolts from it.

I turned back, taking in Paul's rather fleshy face with its rather bushy mustache underneath a mop of thinning brown hair. "I'm afraid I haven't gotten your whole name Mr.-"

"Hunt." He said absentmindedly, returning to his desk and sorting through a pile of sketches. "Paul Hunt."

"Well, it is very nice to meet you Mr. Hunt." I said as I moved over to examine the sketches as he flew through them. "It seems you have already become fast friends with my mother."

"Oh Ruth is a darling," He shuffled the papers around, finally pulling out one that he placed on top. "Please, ladies, take a seat. I should like to show you what I hope to be the final design." Mother and I sat in a pair of chairs across from him, looking at the plain white paper. Charcoal lines described a rather old fashioned dress, at least in terms of the silhouette. The skirt was bustled to the back, almost oval in shape with the way it stretched to the back. A train was placed over it, dragging behind, but it was nothing compared to the length of the veil that trailed it, held onto the figures head by a pair of flower garlands at the temples, the hair caught up in a net. I glanced from the profile to see the main part of the dress. Again, it was rather old fashioned, with its split skirt showing a petticoat underneath, but I found that it felt more classic than ancient. Strands of pearls were draped from side to side of the split front, held in place by brooches and the pattern repeated on the collar of the bodice, which came down in a point over the skirt. Also pointed were a massive pair of split sleeves, revealing an embroidered interior and a small cap sleeve of silk and organza on the inside.

I slowly turned to Mother, "This is, Mother this is extravagant beyond measure."

"She said she wanted you to look like an empress." Paul said, lovingly tracing the fall of the veil with a finger. "Although that was only in a telegram a few days ago, if I'm being honest. I hope you approve of the additions, Ruth. The pearls especially, they will of course lead to a substantial increase in the cost, assuming you would like the best I can find."

"Nothing less will suffice." Mother muttered as she leaned over the sketch, considering it. "What would you think of damask on the skirts?"

"Too busy, they would distract from the pearls. And your daughter's natural beauty." He nodded to me, smiling. In spite of the sheer rush of thoughts going through my head, trying to figure the costs, how Mother had managed to find Mr. Hunt, if the more modern styles would look better, I found myself grinning back. The dress was over the top in every way, from the train to the veil dragging behind it, which I just noticed had pearls along the edges. "Do you approve, Miss Dalian?"

"Mother, it's just so much." I brushed my fingers across it, imagining my features in place of the blank face of the sketch. "I can't ask this of you."

"Do you like it?"

I glanced to her, "I love it, but I don't want you to spend so much."

"Then I won't show you the receipt. It will simply be a gift." Mother gave my hand a squeeze, then turned to Mr. Hunt. "If you are ready for the first fitting?"

"Of course, of course. It's simply a muslin, nothing too expensive." He said the last to me, gesturing toward the fitting area of his office, a step in front of a threefold mirror. He quickly turned around, the shop girl coming forward to assist me out of my dress and into the undergarments required for a dress like this. It was an old crinoline that she settled around my wait, buttoning a plain muslin skirt over it before she laced the muslin bodice around me. It even had the first version of the split sleeves on it, a single layer of fabric dangling down.

"Oh, my dear. It suits you so well." Mother had retired to a chair to watch as the muslin was fitted, and I watched her pull a handkerchief from her pocket and dab at her eyes. I turned to the mirrors, considering myself. The style really did suit me, showing off my height by the skirts belling out from their deep pleats and the bodice dipping low over my chest to reveal the slight swell of my breasts. Cindy reappeared, accompanied by Mr. Hunt as she held up a number of fabric samples to be considered. Mother wrinkled her nose at one. "That champagne is far too dark, try the ivory."

"Too yellow." Mr. Hunt muttered, and it seemed a dozen colors were considered and discarded while I stood there. Finally Mr. Hunt held up a rich cream silk, "This faille is a good shade, do we have it in a taffeta?"

"Yes Mr. Hunt, right here." Cindy had appeared as if by magic at his side, a sample in her hands. "We have three bolts in storage as well."

"Ah, my dear. What would I do without you?" Mr. Hunt leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek, which sent the girl to blushing furiously. "The embroidery and embellishment will take more time than sewing the actual gown. Send those bolts to the cutters when we've finished, they'll need to move quickly. With your approval, of course ladies." Here he smiled at Mother and I, his eyebrows raised.

Mother pursed her lips, but nodded. "It is perfect. Anastasia?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Hunt. It is lovely." I smiled back at him, "It will look marvelous with the pearls that you added." From there it became a series of adjustments of the fit of the muslin, seams being loosened and tightened, hems pinned and let loose, until after what seemed like hours I was finally given permission to get down and dress. Mr. Hunt assured us that the next fitting would not be for awhile, that he needed time to determine the exact embroidery patterns he would devise for the train. Back in the car, I turned to Mother. "He is certainly talented."

"Oh, a certain set do seem to love him." She sniffed, watching as we pulled away from the curb. "I've had my eye on his designs for awhile, a bit too much for me but entirely appropriate for a wedding."

"And Cindy?" I raised an eyebrow. "Is she his wife?"

"His muse, apparently." Mother almost giggled, "They're rather bohemian from what I've gathered."

"They're not married?"

"No, and they live together as if they were." She actually flushed a bit. "It's why he hasn't made as much of a name for himself. He won't divorce his wife, who he hasn't seen for years, and he won't give up Cindy."

"Mother, how exactly do you know all of this?"

"Well, Mrs. Vanderbilt has all the gossip, as you well know. She was all aflutter when I told her that I had contracted him for your dress." She sighed, settling back into the seat. "It was nice to call on her. I have missed it."

"Yes, I have as well." I mumbled, thinking about how I still hadn't had calling hours for Liz to come over. Once we got back, I'd give her a call and tell her to come over anytime and I'd be glad to sit down to tea with her. The car ride was quick to the Fifth Avenue house, and Mother and I were quickly handed out and made our way inside. I could see some furniture was still covered in sheets, there was no point to opening up the house when were were only here for two days. It was only our personal rooms that had been aired out, although I found Will in a reception room, the dust sheet on the floor as he lounged on a leather sofa. "Will, don't go making more work for the servants."

He barely glanced up from the book he was reading, "I'll pick it up once I'm finished." He did shift himself to a sitting position, patting the seat. "Join me?" I did, and he quickly wrapped his arm around me, the book forgotten as he pulled me up onto his lap. "What is the dress like?"

"As over the top as everything Mother does." I chuckled, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "But I do love it."

"Good, good." He let his hands wander from my waist to my bottom, pulling me closer to him. "So we only have the launch and then we head back up, right?"

"Yes," I shivered, his fingers had started to trace their way upwards. "Anxious to get back?"

"Anxious to get you back on the yacht, you need to practice your steering." Will chuckled, his lips dropping to my neck even as he pressed me flush to him. It was only for a second though, a pair of footsteps sounding the hallway that had me back on the seat next to him. He began to loudly read from his book, not poetry but rather a history of New York. I sighed, at least I could still press myself close to him, and as the sound of the footsteps faded, I let my hand rest on his thigh.

Will always did make such lovely noises when I teased him.


"Ana, are you really quite sure this looks alright?" Will said as he adjusted his new uniform in a mirror as we waited for Mother to come downstairs. It was similar to his White Star one, only a few differences. For one, instead of the White Star flag on his buttons and peaked cap, it was the scrolled Dalian D. His rank markings were also different, simply two plain gold lines around his cuffs and on his epaulettes that marked him as a senior officer. Reggie had sent his measurements to the store we had a contract with for the uniforms and this had been waiting for Will this morning. I watched as he shook out the cuffs of the new frock coat. "It just feels a bit tight."

"It will relax with wear." I smiled, stepping up to the mirror to admire us. We did make a handsome couple together, him in his uniform and me in my sailor style dress. We always tried to dress nautically when attending a launch, although Mother would still be in mourning. I did see golden anchors dangling from her ears though as she came down the stair. I smiled, "Your earrings are perfect."

"Thank you Anastasia, and our uniform suits you quite well Mr. Murdoch." Mother gestured towards the front door, "Shall we?" Together we all settled into the auto, letting it chug us along to the shipyards. It was a longer trip that we usually did, although it was rather fun to suddenly see the ship come into view. She was freshly painted, red below the waterline and black above, the deck railings and rooms a bright white. She was lacking her funnels and masts, they'd be installed after she was floating, but lines hung with hundreds of flags were draped along her sides.

I sighed to see her as we approached, although I started as we got closer. Another ship was docked at the shipyards, away from the launch but still rather close. I squinted, sure that I recognized it, aside from the blue and black Dalian funnel. "Mother, what is the Ruth doing here?"

"Captain Fraser is taking over the new ship, and considering he was in town, he thought it would be appropriate to bring her over." Mother glanced out the window, looking back quickly.

"The Ruth?" Will, across from us, raised his eyebrows.

"Gareth named her for me, for our twentieth anniversary." Mother's voice didn't catch, but she did sound distinctly sad. "He thought it was a wonderful gift. Any man can buy his wife a necklace, only he could name a ship for her."

"That's very thoughtful." He smiled, "He was a great man." I reached over and took Mother's hand, smiling to keep her from feeling worse. It would already be hard to attend a launch without Father, he'd always loved them. When the car stopped at the entrance to the shipyard, Will handed us down. "Ladies."

I took his arm, both of us following Mother. "Try to keep her happy, this is going to be hard." She and I smiled and shook hands as the shipyard owners greeted us, Will nodding but staying back as they began to talk about how quickly the ship was going to be completed after the launch. We made our way through a very large crowd, shipyard workers having brought their families to watch, mixing with our office staff and various officers and captains that had made the trip.

"Mrs. Dalian, it is a pleasure to see you again." A captain said, bowing over her hand. "I'm pleased to report that your namesake made her last crossing in record time for us, I did not want to miss this."

"Captain Fraser, thank you." Mother actually gave a smile, and gestured for us to step forward. "You remember Anastasia, of course, and this is her fiancé William Murdoch. He will be one of your senior officers."

Will extended a hand, "It is very nice to meet you, sir."

"Likewise," Captain Fraser said after a moment, shaking Will's hand firmly. "How long have you been at sea?"

"Coming on twenty-three years, sir." Will drew himself up a bit, "I promise, I shall do my utmost for you."

"Hmm, we shall see." Captain Fraser said with a smile, his eyebrows quirking up slightly. "But for now, let's head on up. Mr. Keller is waiting for us to join him on the stage before we begin." Captain Fraser actually gave Mother his arm to help her onto the stage, but took a seat farther down from us. The stage was close to the bow, the champagne for the christening waiting on a small podium, in a silver cage and with ribbons dangling from it. I could see the crowd eagerly turning towards us, anxious for the launch. Not only to see the fine new ship they had built finally touch the waves, but for the party we had sponsored. It could not start until the ship was launched, hence the impatient looks on people's faces.

Mr. Keller stepped forward, clearing his throat. "We come here today to launch the newest ship for Dalian Shipping, built quickly and sturdily by you men here." That led to a cheer from the crowd, Mr. Keller waiting until it died away to speak again. "This is also our first launch without our previous owner, Gareth Dalian. He set out the details for this launch long before the keel was even laid, as was often the case. We shall miss having him here, so I would ask you all for a moment of silence to remember him." Hats were doffed and heads were ducked, I reached over to squeeze Mother's hand. Her head was ducked, so I was unable to see her face, but she did squeeze my hand back.

I waited until Mr. Keller had begun to speak again, praising the efforts of everyone from the shipwrights to the riveters, before I whispered. "Oh Will, I just wish Father could be here. He obviously planned so much of it out."

"You know Ana, some sailors have a belief that gulls are the souls of those they've lost. Perhaps that one on the stage is your Father, come to check up on you. And that one might be my brother John, making sure that I'm keeping on." He drew my attention to a gull that had settled down on the corner of the platform, eyeing the ribbons along its edge. Another gull wheeled overhead, cawing loudly as it circled. I wanted to kiss him then, to tell him that he was everything to me, sweet and kind and the best man that I had ever met. If Will had asked me to go to his bed after he had said that I would have agreed in a heartbeat. But I couldn't, I couldn't even kiss him with all the eyes that were on us. So I settled for squeezing his hand tightly, hoping that my eyes could tell him all that I wanted to.

"I should like to ask Miss Dalian to come forward, and read a letter that her father had sent to me after ordering the ship. He wanted me to remember this for the launch, so it is rather short. Anastasia, if you will?" Mr. Keller looked back as he spoke, holding out a tattered envelope. It took me a moment to get to my feet, stepping forward by the podium.

I looked at the it as Mr. Keller handed to me, opening it and pulling the letter out. Tears sprang to my eyes, a few of them falling down my face, and it was a moment before I was able to speak. "My father, Gareth, left this. He wrote, Adam, name this new ship after my daughter. Ruth has sailed alone long enough, and there is no other lady that I love more than my daughter. Let her be the Anastasia, and have her christen it." I placed the folded letter down, taking a second to compose myself. "I hope he's here, somehow, and can see this."

I stepped to the edge of the stage, a champagne bottle held inside a silver wire cage so that the glass could be kept. It would join the others in Father's office, memories from each launch. I lifted it, pulling the rope around the neck taut so it would swing quickly against her bow. The words came easy, I had heard them so many times. "May God bless this ship and all who sail on her. I christen thee the Anastasia." I let the bottle go, swinging smoothly to smash against the steel side, a great cheer rising from the crowd as the champagne burst from it and drenched a few of the people close by. I felt Will's hand on my shoulder, and Mother's slip into mine as they joined me, a great whistle sounding as the ship quickly began to slide from her berth. Soap, grease and fat spread along the floor of it sped her along, a great rush of water coming as her stern slid into the water. It was only a moment before the rest of her followed, her anchored lines slowing her so that she rested placidly on the waves. A couple tugs were already coming forward to direct her to a dock, where she would receive the last of her fittings. It was a good launch, no fouled lines or injuries, it was a good omen for her future

Mother dabbed at her eyes briefly, but her voice was firm. "Mr. Keller, Captain Fraser, I hope you will join us for a dinner in celebration of this occasion." Both quite loudly agreed, and there was a deal of discussion over cars that were needed, for Mother asked that some of the office staff, and even some of the riveters, join us. It led to a very large table in a very fine restaurant and a goodly amount of drink being shared around. Looking out over the varied crowd, whose dinner she would gladly be paying for, Mother lifted her glass. "I think a toast is in order."

"Of course," Captain Fraser said, hoisting his whiskey. "Quite fitting."

Mother lifted her own glass of champagne high, her motions echoed by the entire table. We waited in silence for her, and her voice was light when she spoke. "To both of our Anastasias, may they have a long, safe, and happy life." She paused for a moment though, a smile breaking out. "And a warning to Mr. Murdoch, that he should take the utmost care of both." That led to a loud laugh, Will flushing slightly until I took his hand, and a number of drained glasses slammed back onto the table. What followed was an entertaining dinner, with a bit of ribbing for Will about how he should handle the ship and myself differently. One might need a firm hand, but the other he should be gentle with. It was also never polite to comment on the size of a lady's stern, that comment had me laughing loudly as Will flushed a bit. All in all, it was a good night, and as it wore on, I felt Will slip in hand into mine under the table, brushing his thumb across the back of my hand. It took all I had to not turn to him, mooneyed and dewy with that love that was filling my heart.