Gleb and Olga Drabbles

We were children together

First- this is not historically accurate. I was intending to fit the musical storyline though I do know a bit about the period. Also, my first fanfic so I apologize about it being bad. FIrst draft and free write, but I love this pair. Thank you for reading

I had been told not to speak to the soldiers. A quick mouth would equal a quick hand or much worse especially as romanov daughter. The world was turned upside down in a way that would never be turned right again. We had lost our power- most riches [minus the jewel sewn into our dresses]. There was only so much time before they also stripped us of our lives. And for what? Revenge on a man who had fallen privy to the war. A man who even when wrong cared deeply for his country and people. Anastasia would often wisecrack to a passing Bolshevik. I had stopped trying to warn my younger sister and instead hoped to soften whatever punishment should come. Anastasia had a fire about her that was unable to be put out. If only fire was contagious. Holding one's tongue was well learned in the older children from years of balls and the fanfare of court meetings. Papa wouldn't be embarrassed or contradicted publically. Yet I found myself watching a particular guard, a young man with tall stature and a handsome face. A stoic man that treated the children fairly- or more fairly then the others. His gaze was confident and proud as if this rebellion had been the fire that forged his blade. My little sisters jokes did pull his lips slightly. General Vaganov had remained his humanity in the face of holding a family hostage. In fact, he was one of the few who hadn't been indecent with his intentions. As sure as he was behind the reasoning of what he was doing, the man hadn't lost who he was keeping in line. The only real smile would come from a tiny boy pressed to his side. Boy didn't seem to describe Gleb. Where his father was angular, his face was softer. The same steely brown eyes lost in another world. He reminded me of a haughty prince in one of the fairytale novels mother had read. A man who did not see himself as handsome and hungered after his father's image. Today was the first that he was close enough to hear. Pressed against his father's side yet standing straight as a pole. My blue eyes couldn't help taking him. It was only a matter of time before one of my siblings stepped out of line and the boy would be alone. Gleb always seemed calculating when watching his father and the other men at work. My heart roared with the fierceness his expression held. The ghost of laughter on those perfect pink lips as Anastasia and Marie attempted to explain what they had been doing like some school kid trying to keep a straight face as the class clown gave their performance. "Hello, I haven't seen you around her before. Gleb- is it? I thought I heard the general refer to you as such." I started with the courage of his almost happiness in my voice. It was only polite to bow one's head in greeting and attempt any form of manners. The soldiers could rip everything from me, but I will never give the satisfaction of showing they had ruffled my feathers. If I was to be treated like an animal, I would act like a princess until my bitter end. Gleb seemed to stare at me for a few minutes. the hatred that he knew and the kindness in his heart at war. Romanov perched on his lips. My fantasy was all but shattered. The spit and names were just as easy to envision. Somehow, the younger Vaganova was like his father. A warning tone in his voice as he spoke. Yet, my hand was lifted forward to meet that beautiful pink pout. "I am not here often, princess. Only training at my father's side. I have heard many stories about the Romanov's but a beautiful daughter such as yourself with enough manners to scratch by had not been brought to my attention."

If I am to die, Why not live while I have the chance?