So here's the deal. I've been on an Anastasia kick lately. I've watched the movie every night before bed for a week. That being said, I'm disappointed at the lack of fic for this marvelous movie, and furthermore, the lack of Anya/Dimitri fics.

It's like they say, if you want something done right, do it yourself. So I've taken it upon myself to take a few drastic measures. I claimed the Anya/Dimitri pairing over at Livejournal's 100 colours prompt community. That means I intend to write 100 drabbles and one-shot fics for Anya and Dimitri.

Originally, I planned to write them in sets of ten and then post ten chapters, but as I got around to it, I found this set up to be...dull. So instead I'm posting them individually, because, hell, I want to.

I'm also challenging myself. I have a habit of getting really into a fandom briefly, and then abandoning it mid-way. So, for the next 100 days, I am going to write one fic a day and post it.

So here is one of many.

--

Technicolour Eyes

Prompt #009: Black

--

There it was, staring at them, no, screaming at them in black words across the rough page of a newspaper.

'Russian Duchess Abdicates the Throne and Elopes!'

Oh, it was all so terribly dramatic, it was. The fact that the gorgeous, youngest Romanov daughter had finally been found after ten years of impostors and rumors. She was finally reunited with her bloodline, with her family; and within two days of the joyous news being announced, it was proclaimed that she gave it all up.

For a commoner. A con-man, at that.

The streets were in a tizzy. Some dubbed it romantic, others dubbed it tragic. It depended on whom you spoke to, really.

Despite everything, no one really knew the exact identities of the duchess and her husband, which added even more frustration to the situation. One man voiced as much as he stood on a market corner, reading the paper.

"Can you believe it?" he asked the young man who stood beside him, glancing at his watch. He shook his head. "It's positively remarkable."

The young man cocked his head, shaking strands of brown hair out of his eyes. "What is?"

"This!" the man exclaimed, slapping a hand against the newspaper. "We finally get our duchess back and poof! She's gone! Run away for love! Bah! Ridiculous!"

"Yes, well," the man bowed his head. "I guess we all have to make our own choices."

"We certainly do," a female voice entered the conversation. The old man glanced over at her, taking in her long hair and blue eyes. She wrapped an arm around the young man's arm. "Like the decision to walk away right now."

As soon as they were away from earshot, Dimitri grasped Anya's hand. "How long do you think it'll be till this blows over?"

Anya shrugged. "However long it takes to realize that we've been right under their noses all long, still living in St. Petersburg."

Dimitri grinned at her. "Guess we should get used to the rumors, then."

--