Tatiana - Prologue
June 1914, St. Petersburg
“Why Paris?” whispered Olga from her bed across the room, “I mean, the university here is just as good”. Tatiana sighed, her sister would eventually see through her façade, and most likely tell their father, ruining her well-laid plans.
“Well Olga, here in St. Petersburg, they aren’t going to let a Grand Duchess study medicine now are they?” she replied, determination filling her whispered tones. Olga’s stunned silence filled the room, and so Tatiana pressed ahead. “In France, they don’t care who you are, it doesn’t matter if you are a noble, a peasant, or even coloured, as long as you work for France, they won’t care where you are from. There I can follow my dreams; I can become more than just some token to married off!” A match flared in the room, the soft glow of the gas lamp soon filled the room. Tatiana padded her way over to Olga’s bed and engulfed her sister in a hug. She knew that at moments like this, Olga needed a bit of physical comforting. After what seemed like an eternity, they untangled their arms and sat in silence, Olga looking deep into her sister’s eyes, looking for any hint of duplicity. She found none.
“You really are going ahead with this?” she asked in quiet resignation. Tatiana nodded, no hesitation.
“Yes, but think of it this way, you can come to visit me and we can go shopping in those great boutiques, wouldn’t you like that. And who knows I might even find a handsome Frenchman for the occasion” Tatiana teased, a forced grin making it’s way across her softly lit face. Olga snorted.
“What, after you take all the good ones, I don’t think so dear sister of mine” she riposted. “Now with you gone, I’ll get all the boys here in St. Petersburg”. A sad smile accompanied the glistening eyes.
“I’ll miss you, you know that” replied Tatiana, gulping back the tears. “Write every day won’t you, I know that we won’t be able to talk quickly, so don’t leave anything out Olga dear”.
The rest of the night was spent chatting till the lamp had burnt out, as one does at a hospice or on other grim occasions, desperately trying to think of something else.
As the bright sun pierced the pleasant bite of spring, the family stood and clung desperately to each other. Anastasia wept into her sister’s dress and refused to let go when the time came. “Don’t go!” she wailed, agony to Tatiana’s ears. She sighed and reached down, gently pushing the small girl off, and then embracing her in a hug.
“Don’t you worry sister, I’ll be home before you know it”, Tatiana forced a smile, trying not to let the sadness infiltrate her voice. Eventually, Anastasia untangled herself and promptly latched onto her mother. The Tsarina had not approved of her daughter’s desire to go to France, old bias rearing its head. Coupled with Tatiana’s headstrong attitude and desire for freedom, and Alexandra’s obsession with tradition and subservience, it was no wonder that they had come to blows. Despite her apparent Russian integration, the Tsarina had till been trying to find German matches for her daughters. While Olga had had some freedom considering her first-born status (a Russian match was to be expected), Tatiana had born the brunt of her mother’s matchmaking. France had simply been the last straw on the camel’s back. A frosty glare was the only farewell Tatiana received. As a compromise, she had agreed to travel by train through Germany, visiting relative and ‘potential prospects’. Not that this would change her decision, but this small compromise had ensured a civil departure.
Her relationship with her father had actually improved. Stubborn in his youth, the Tsar had mellowed out a bit, and after a bit of venting on her part, had come to understand Tatiana’s position. She had been the maternal one to look after her sister’s during her mother’s phases, and while she adored her sisters, she still desired to have her own freedom. Tatiana had been there for her father when he wanted to vent his frustration and had helped give him a new perspective on the matters of state. He understood her desire to travel, and after much convincing had agreed to let her go to France. She knew that he would be angry at her deception, but would eventually come to understand why.
“There is no stopping you is there?” he said with quiet resignation. Shaking her head she hugged him too. No words were needed. “You be careful, use your head and stay safe, don’t let anyone take advantage of you”, he said, confidence and worry lacing his words.
“Yes, father”, hugging him tighter.
With a solemn voice, he bid her farewell, “I love you, my dear, now go and show the world who you are, Tatiana Romanov.” With that she mounted into the car that would take her to the train station, blinking back the tears that threatened to engulf her.
“Are you alright ma’am?” asked the driver.
“Just something in my eye” she replied, steadying her breathing and looking resolutely ahead.
“First time away from home?” he asked with a knowing smile.
“Indeed” came the whisper.
She boarded the first-class wagon at the central station, her handmaid-read-watcher busied herself with the luggage, screeching at the poor man try to load it, the inspector eying her carefully, before clipping her tickets and handing them back, “St. Petersburg to Konigsburg, via Riga. Welcome aboard Miss … ?”
“Tatiana” she replied, omitting her last name and quickly changing the subject, “What time will dinner be served, I fear that my companion” pointedly looking at her jailor “might need something soon, to calm her nerves at the very least.”
Grimacing at the thought he replied, “Dinner shall be served in a few hours, at 8 pm. However, I shall arrange for something to be brought over for the madam soon enough, maybe a calming tea should do the job?”
“Maybe add a little something so that it’ll do the job, with plenty of sugar to hide the taste”, she said grinning, accompanied by a short bark of laughter from the man. “I think your colleague might need some help if he is to survive the trip”, he turned and quickly hide his grimace to go help the poor man cowering under the madam’s glare.
“Very well Miss Tatiana, enjoy your trip, I shall leave you to find your cabin, it should be a couple of doors down to the right” he said, before steeling himself and marching off the deal with the irate woman.
It was only later, once the train started pulling out of the station that Tatiana realised, there was no going back now. The snoring form of the madam barely shifting as the train began its journey, her own heart beating wildly as she set out on her first true adventure.
Author's Note
So this is the start of a piece I am writing. As some of you may have guessed, this will take place during the First World War. Our first protagonist is Tatiana Romanov, the second daughter of Tsar Nicholas II. It should be fairly obvious that I have taken some creative liberty not only with the events that take place but also with the personality of certain people. Contrary to most stories on this forum, this story shall aim to focus on the human stories of the First World War, from a decidedly French perspective, something which is very lacking in these international forums. You may also have realised that some of the language used is also not historically accurate, both in linguistics and in what was considered acceptable terms in the past. However, I do not condone such language in any shape or form and thus have adapted it while still trying to be representative of their perspectives. Moving on from that, I would really appreciate any critiques you may have, along with any suggestions or comments. Thanks, NathanaelWillum.
“Why Paris?” whispered Olga from her bed across the room, “I mean, the university here is just as good”. Tatiana sighed, her sister would eventually see through her façade, and most likely tell their father, ruining her well-laid plans.
“Well Olga, here in St. Petersburg, they aren’t going to let a Grand Duchess study medicine now are they?” she replied, determination filling her whispered tones. Olga’s stunned silence filled the room, and so Tatiana pressed ahead. “In France, they don’t care who you are, it doesn’t matter if you are a noble, a peasant, or even coloured, as long as you work for France, they won’t care where you are from. There I can follow my dreams; I can become more than just some token to married off!” A match flared in the room, the soft glow of the gas lamp soon filled the room. Tatiana padded her way over to Olga’s bed and engulfed her sister in a hug. She knew that at moments like this, Olga needed a bit of physical comforting. After what seemed like an eternity, they untangled their arms and sat in silence, Olga looking deep into her sister’s eyes, looking for any hint of duplicity. She found none.
“You really are going ahead with this?” she asked in quiet resignation. Tatiana nodded, no hesitation.
“Yes, but think of it this way, you can come to visit me and we can go shopping in those great boutiques, wouldn’t you like that. And who knows I might even find a handsome Frenchman for the occasion” Tatiana teased, a forced grin making it’s way across her softly lit face. Olga snorted.
“What, after you take all the good ones, I don’t think so dear sister of mine” she riposted. “Now with you gone, I’ll get all the boys here in St. Petersburg”. A sad smile accompanied the glistening eyes.
“I’ll miss you, you know that” replied Tatiana, gulping back the tears. “Write every day won’t you, I know that we won’t be able to talk quickly, so don’t leave anything out Olga dear”.
The rest of the night was spent chatting till the lamp had burnt out, as one does at a hospice or on other grim occasions, desperately trying to think of something else.
As the bright sun pierced the pleasant bite of spring, the family stood and clung desperately to each other. Anastasia wept into her sister’s dress and refused to let go when the time came. “Don’t go!” she wailed, agony to Tatiana’s ears. She sighed and reached down, gently pushing the small girl off, and then embracing her in a hug.
“Don’t you worry sister, I’ll be home before you know it”, Tatiana forced a smile, trying not to let the sadness infiltrate her voice. Eventually, Anastasia untangled herself and promptly latched onto her mother. The Tsarina had not approved of her daughter’s desire to go to France, old bias rearing its head. Coupled with Tatiana’s headstrong attitude and desire for freedom, and Alexandra’s obsession with tradition and subservience, it was no wonder that they had come to blows. Despite her apparent Russian integration, the Tsarina had till been trying to find German matches for her daughters. While Olga had had some freedom considering her first-born status (a Russian match was to be expected), Tatiana had born the brunt of her mother’s matchmaking. France had simply been the last straw on the camel’s back. A frosty glare was the only farewell Tatiana received. As a compromise, she had agreed to travel by train through Germany, visiting relative and ‘potential prospects’. Not that this would change her decision, but this small compromise had ensured a civil departure.
Her relationship with her father had actually improved. Stubborn in his youth, the Tsar had mellowed out a bit, and after a bit of venting on her part, had come to understand Tatiana’s position. She had been the maternal one to look after her sister’s during her mother’s phases, and while she adored her sisters, she still desired to have her own freedom. Tatiana had been there for her father when he wanted to vent his frustration and had helped give him a new perspective on the matters of state. He understood her desire to travel, and after much convincing had agreed to let her go to France. She knew that he would be angry at her deception, but would eventually come to understand why.
“There is no stopping you is there?” he said with quiet resignation. Shaking her head she hugged him too. No words were needed. “You be careful, use your head and stay safe, don’t let anyone take advantage of you”, he said, confidence and worry lacing his words.
“Yes, father”, hugging him tighter.
With a solemn voice, he bid her farewell, “I love you, my dear, now go and show the world who you are, Tatiana Romanov.” With that she mounted into the car that would take her to the train station, blinking back the tears that threatened to engulf her.
“Are you alright ma’am?” asked the driver.
“Just something in my eye” she replied, steadying her breathing and looking resolutely ahead.
“First time away from home?” he asked with a knowing smile.
“Indeed” came the whisper.
She boarded the first-class wagon at the central station, her handmaid-read-watcher busied herself with the luggage, screeching at the poor man try to load it, the inspector eying her carefully, before clipping her tickets and handing them back, “St. Petersburg to Konigsburg, via Riga. Welcome aboard Miss … ?”
“Tatiana” she replied, omitting her last name and quickly changing the subject, “What time will dinner be served, I fear that my companion” pointedly looking at her jailor “might need something soon, to calm her nerves at the very least.”
Grimacing at the thought he replied, “Dinner shall be served in a few hours, at 8 pm. However, I shall arrange for something to be brought over for the madam soon enough, maybe a calming tea should do the job?”
“Maybe add a little something so that it’ll do the job, with plenty of sugar to hide the taste”, she said grinning, accompanied by a short bark of laughter from the man. “I think your colleague might need some help if he is to survive the trip”, he turned and quickly hide his grimace to go help the poor man cowering under the madam’s glare.
“Very well Miss Tatiana, enjoy your trip, I shall leave you to find your cabin, it should be a couple of doors down to the right” he said, before steeling himself and marching off the deal with the irate woman.
It was only later, once the train started pulling out of the station that Tatiana realised, there was no going back now. The snoring form of the madam barely shifting as the train began its journey, her own heart beating wildly as she set out on her first true adventure.
Author's Note
So this is the start of a piece I am writing. As some of you may have guessed, this will take place during the First World War. Our first protagonist is Tatiana Romanov, the second daughter of Tsar Nicholas II. It should be fairly obvious that I have taken some creative liberty not only with the events that take place but also with the personality of certain people. Contrary to most stories on this forum, this story shall aim to focus on the human stories of the First World War, from a decidedly French perspective, something which is very lacking in these international forums. You may also have realised that some of the language used is also not historically accurate, both in linguistics and in what was considered acceptable terms in the past. However, I do not condone such language in any shape or form and thus have adapted it while still trying to be representative of their perspectives. Moving on from that, I would really appreciate any critiques you may have, along with any suggestions or comments. Thanks, NathanaelWillum.
