A/N: I wrote this in literally an hour so it's far from my best piece of work. But I NEEDED to write something to relieve my Anastasia feels, so enjoy.
Also, I took a bit of writer's license here as I will explain later.
A dance. The act that begun the love between them.
A kiss. Their first with many more to follow.
A tiny bed. Where they made love on the boat sailing across the Seine.
An elopement. Anya will return to her Grandmama soon, but for now, all her eyes were on Dimitri.
His eyes were always on her.
The tattered remain of Anya's dress lays on the floor of her and Dimitri's cabin which hide his forgotten trousers and removed waistcoat. They snuggle together underneath a blanket but replace sleep with talk. She asks him about his life before she met him, because she is curious. Because she is Anya. He answers her honestly.
Because she's Anya.
At one point, Dimitri believes Anya will think badly of him due to his past life as a con man. His immoralities, his stealing and hurting.
But he's not proud of his deeds.
She ends up loving him more.
A hurried return to the palace in Paris, where Anya's Grandmama is waiting.
They hadn't got married yet. Dimitri wanted to get her a ring.
But Anya became pregnant. They had to return.
The Dowager Empress is not happy. What would the people think, the press, if the Duchess' child could have been a bastard? Anya would get bad publicity. No, they had to marry as soon as possible.
Dimitri is given a ring from the Dowager. A beautiful one of course, solid gold embedded with a pretty pattern of diamonds and sapphires. Sapphires the colour of Romanov blue. They match Anya's eyes perfectly.
"I can't take this," Dimitri says as he stares at it. In his entire life of stealing and cheating, he's never held an item so dear.
"Of course you can." says the Dowager. She is firm. Lines on her forehead and around her mouth show the gravity of the situation. She cannot waste time listening to Dimitri's petty objections.
She has to resort to guards dragging Dimitri out.
The ceremony is rushed. Few people attend.
It's strange for a Royal Wedding. But Dimitri nor Anya care.
As the vows are being said, Anya sneaks a glance at her Grandmama. She is beaming at her, overjoyed. She can sense Anya's happiness. It is radiating.
"You may now kiss the bride."
Dimitri doesn't hesitate.
The people of France don't seem to like Dimitri.
Kitchen boy? Why would a Princess marry a Kitchen Boy? What a ridiculous thing!
Anya thinks otherwise.
She keeps Dimitri close to her side at palace balls, not for one second ashamed of Dimitri's previously low status in society.
She glares, in a very unprincess like fashion, at people who speak badly of Dimitri. He realises, of course. He is not naive. It's a silly, unheard of idea of a royal marrying a person equal to a peasant.
"No one seems to like me," he says when they leave the ball.
"They're stupid people then, aren't they?" says Anya, matter-of-factly.
"They think you shouldn't be married to someone like me."
"Well, 'they' are people who marry for status and money, not for love and happiness."
Anya can be very wise at times.
Much to the shock of the palace, Dimitri enters with blood staining his shirt.
He seems that he has returned to his old ways.
At least, that what a furious Anya thinks as she examines a knife wound at his side.
"You were lucky," she whispers, tears forming in her eyes. It has been cleaned but is clear Dimitri still feels a lot of pain.
He turns to look at his wife who gazes back at him with grief and melancholy. She will be giving birth in a few days, she doesn't need this stress so soon before. He feels guilty beyond belief.
He explains how.
"I wasn't thieving," he says. "I was protecting someone else."
"I didn't think you were thieving," Anya lies through her teeth. She is sorry to think that she thought Dimitri would return to being a con man. She feels she should've trusted him more.
"You should've been more careful."
"I was stopping some from being raped." Dimitri looks hard into her eyes now and almost gets lost in the dark sea blue. The look on Anya's face alerts him it hits home. He takes her hands in his, her delicate little hands.
"Like I should've done with you," he whispers before he is captured in a hug that seems like a thank you. Thank you for preventing the pain for someone else.
Her belly is huge, so collides with his.
"I can't hug you properly," Anya half-smiles.
"Kiss me instead," Dimitri says.
She does so without objection.
21st of July.
The day their baby is born.
Dimitri waits patiently, yet impatiently, outside their bedroom. Patiently, as he doesn't yell to enter but impatiently, that every inch of his body aches to his and Anya's child.
He is finally allowed admission.
He rushes to Anya's side, almost tripping up the midwife, and kisses her. Pain shoots up from his wound but he easily ignores it.
She smiles at him weakly and he looks at the baby.
It's pink and wrinkly but it's the most beautiful thing Dimitri has ever seen. Except, maybe Anya.
"She looks just like you..." Dimitri whispers and bends to pick her up. She is so tiny and small and fits into the palm of his hand. He's never held something so delicate and precious.
"How do you know it's a she?" Anya asks as she gazes up at him with mild confusion. Dimitri ponders at his answer.
Anya suddenly cries with laughter and the midwife calms her down. She scolds Dimitri for making Anya laugh when she's just given birth; she needs a lot of rest. The midwife threatens to kick Dimitri out but Anya fires up and says something Dimitri hopes the baby will never ever remember.
The midwife looks shocked and for a moment looks as if she will counter her.
"Very emotional too," the midwife mutters before giving Dimitri and Anya their privacy.
"Idiot woman," Anya mutters. "As if you will leave me any longer! I think I crushed three people's hands while I was giving birth, but if my husband were here, it would only have been one."
"I hope you never use that language in front of the baby again," Dimitri says, but plants another kiss on her lips. It is chaste but sweet. "We made a wonderful baby, didn't we?"
Anya looks at Dimitri for a moment. For a second, she thinks of her life now if Dimitri had not changed his mind about going to St. Petersburg. He would've returned to his life as a con man, while she as a Duchess. She may have married. Not to someone she loved, most likely someone rich with high status and who would give even more wealth to the family. Would she be happy? Anya could be sure the answer would be no. Not nearly as happy as she is now.
"I'm glad I got the chance to make her with you," Anya whispers softly. Only soft enough so Dimitri can hear.
Then Dimitri slides into the bed and Anya rests her head on his shoulders and falls asleep quicker than the baby.
A/N: Before you say 'I didn't realise Anya was raped when was younger' she wasn't. Probably. I just wanted to put it in because the film isn't very historically accurate anyway so, why not? This is fanfiction anyway...
Please review and give me loads of constructive criticism!