♡ו.Historical Figures Oneshots(FR et ANGL).•×♡

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐫. (𝐄𝐍𝐆)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DISCLAIMER!! Accurate? Myth? Euh, who knows. Rumor has it that Anastasia may have survived the Romanov massacre by the Bolsheviks and fled to Paris. I will explain more in the historical summary. But anyways, myth or not, it is still based on a historical character, so it is accepted to my book~ ;) In fact I might even write Greek mythologies here too because I quite enjoy them.

Characters: Anastasia Romanov of Russia and Gleb Vaganov of Russia.

***

***

17 July, 1918.

It was difficult to walk in Siberia, even in July it was difficult, the snow never left the Urals and this made it very difficult to walk, but this couldn't be truer for Anastasia, she already felt tired beyond everything; she wanted to cry, to shout, to be angry, to feel that she was alive; but more than anything she wanted, no, she desperately needed to find herself back, even in the Ipatiev house, it didn't matter where it was, even if there were the Bolsheviks there; what she wanted was to be with her family and discover that this was only a sick dream, a nightmare; to wake up in the cot, with her sisters in the room and hug them all tightly, and be together.

But that is impossible, they were dead and she somehow survived and the state she was in, was enough proof that even a nightmare couldn't feel so real; her cheeks were red from all the tears and the cold, her eyes swollen, her throat dry and sometimes a breathless sob escaped from her lips, even if they were firmly closed, and if this wasn't bad enough, the cold Russian night in Siberia was making her shaking with cold; it was a harsh cold, one that enters the skin and arrives in the bones chilling her even more.

And to consider she was only 17. . .

She didn't know where she was going, since disappearing from the pile of corpses of her family, she had started wandering without any direction, but with only one goal to get as far away as she can from the Soviets; the forest didn't allow her to see the sky, she was walking on pure instinct. It was dark as it was late at night, the atmosphere almost pitch black.

"Anastasia, stop."

The young Russian froze on the spot, her head slowly turned and she saw him, Gleb Vaganov. The young duchess remembers that his father, a soldier, a sailor, a bolshevik revolutionary, Stepan Vaganov, was one of the Bolsheviks that had murdered her family earlier this night, and to think that a few days earlier she considered Gleb a friend, she had been naive, she thought to herself. After all, a Bolshevik was and will forever be a Bolshevik. He was standing there with a gun in his hand, pointing at the ground. On his green uniform, there was some blood. He was looking at her with sad eyes, he wasn't the only one who didn't want to see the other, neither of them had forgotten what had happened in the room of Ipatiev house, in Yekaterinburg(They're both currently also in Yekaterinburg btw.).

"You know that you can't call me that, you can only call me Romanova, that is what you pigs have to call me, did you forget about that, Vaganov?" Anastasia says after having gathered herself. She stood straight as if still in control, knowing her royal blood, but deep down she was furious at those pesky Soviets.

"No, I did not; I just want to talk to you," He said quietly and patiently.

She laughed humorlessly at him, "Sure, sure, let's talk about how you and your fellow pigs failed to kill me." she said with venom and sarcasm.

"I didn't come here to talk about that, but I came to talk to you about an offer that I have for you," Gleb speaks, trying to sound as kindly as possible.