It took around two days for Amelia to get better but after Canada's constant telling for her to rest, eating France's many wonderful foods, drinking many cups of Britain's soothing tea, and taking China's medicine every day, she felt good as new. She got up from bed and went to go do her exercises, happily meditating and getting all the sickness finally out of her system before heading to breakfast.

When she arrived at Austria's dining hall, many of the nations wanted to make sure she was ok. Russia especially was concerned and refused to let her lift a finger, which Amelia found endearing. Japan and Switzerland were very quick to apologize, as they felt at fault. After all, if they hadn't taking her hiking, she wouldn't have gotten sick. But, Amelia shrugged them off with a smile, telling them all was forgiven.

After the meal was finished, Amelia wanted to make up for her lazy days of bedrest. Finding herself in the mood to dance, she went back to her room and garbed herself in a sleeveless white leotard, white pointe shoes, and a baby blue sheer ballet skirt. She put her hair in a high bun, a few shorter pieces falling onto her perfect face. She finished the look by putting on her favorite earrings, natural pearl studs that Hawaii had gifted her.

She then began her walk to the dance studio, passing many nations on the way. Both North and South Italy thought she made the most adorable ballerina, as France began to aw at how absolutely angelic she looked. When she finally got to the studio, she began to stretch out her tiredly tense muscles.

Russia entered ten minutes into her stretching, finding Amelia in a rather difficult position for many ballet dancers: the grand battement. It was a move he himself took months to perfect, as it required very flexible muscles. When he studied Amelia over a bit more, he saw how peaceful her features were. It differed from when Amelia had been sick, as if she was more relaxed while being active than physically resting.

When Amelia shifted and went to a développé, staying perfectly still for thirty seconds before shifting her positions again. He was astonished by her skills as he watched her move so swiftly, as if she was just a stream of water in a creak. He loved the way she moved so naturally, as if she had been dancing for decades of her life.

After annalyzing her for a few more minutes, he noticed the pattern of moves: first position, demi-plié, croisé devant, arabesque, penché, grand battement, développé,  cambré back, and back to first position.

Once she was finished with her "warm-up", she began to shuffle through her phone. She smiled at a certain song and connected her playlist to the speakers surrounding the room. A dubstep violin piece that was unfamiliar to the Russian began to play as Amelia began to dance her heart out. He watched in as she would leap with such airiness that he thought she was weightless, her posture even while performing the most difficult movements was perfect, and thought her the embodiment of graceful elegance itself.

Once she finished her small performance, he applauded her happily. Startled, she turned around to find Ivan with a soft smile radiating from his face. She blushed as she smiled just as softly, taking a bow towards her sole audience member. As Ivan approached, he couldn't help but keep that genuine smile upon his face.

"You dance as if an angel possesses your soul and gravity does not bind you by its force. Such a flawless performance from an even more flawless ballerina," Ivan complimented, making Amelia turn redder than she was before.

"Thank you, Ivan. It means a lot considering I'm a little out of practice," Amelia giggled at Ivan's face of shock. Amelia danced as if she had been dancing for centuries, yet she was supposedly 'out of practice'? Ivan was quick to fix his expression and offered her a hand.

"Would you like to dance with me again? Just something we can make up as we go. Let us have fun with it, da?" Amelia chuckled and gently took Ivan's hand.

"Da," she turned towards her phone, "shuffle," she demanded to the phone. When the new song began to play, Amelia's eyes widened.

Of all the songs my phone could play, this is what we dance to? How ironic...

https://youtu.be/AWJ-nH0apSg

The two began to dance freely, indeed making up the steps as the melody played. The two of them had such great chemistry while dancing, it was almost scary. They could put the most talented partners to shame as they both showcased their talents. Amelia's flexibility made up for her tiny stature and helped their movements look more cohesive. While Ivan's strength and gentleness seemed to perfectly compliment Amelia's more daring attitude.

As Ivan dipped Amelia into a fish dive, he was quick to notice how toned Amelia actually was. Her abs were solid muscle and her thighs and calves seemed inpentrable. Ivan nearly dropped her in shock, but got a hold of himself and lifted her up, setting her buttox on her shoulder. It wasn't until Ivan looked Amelia directly into her eyes that he felt something ping his heart, as if a dull flame had been set a blaze once more. He had fallen in love with such sapphire's before, he knew he had.

Soviet Russia, 1982: The Bolshoi Theatre

Ivan was with his fellow dancer as they entered the Bolshoi Theatre, warming up with his comrades. Even though his primary sport of choice was hockey, he loved the ballet more than anything. He remembered how much the royals used to love the ballet and would attend every year, so this was his way of keeping them in his heart.

That night was going to be the Bolshoi ballet's performance of "Raymonda". It was one of Ivan's favorites, so he was a little upset that he wasn't casted for the lead or understudy. But he kept practicing and hoped that something would happen to let him dance.

"Irek is late," one dancer said, "and none of the girls are here. I wonder what is keeping them," many of the other males began to think of possible reasons, when their instructor walked in. A grave look made itself noticeable upon her features, making all the male dancer stop.

"I am afraid I bring terrible news," she started as some of the female dancers came in, "Irek, Ludmilla, and both understudies have been in a car accident. Unfortunately, they will not be back in the studio for two weeks," murmuring began to take over the small studio, but the instructor was quick to silence it, "I have already come up with a plan, so do not fret,"

She stepped aside and a petit blonde walked in, she had childish features but a stern expression. Ivan looked at her as though his world had stopped, his face feeling warm and his chest getting tight.

"Wow," he whispered as the many men fell silent. He would admit the fact that she was tiny, but she looked like a goddess.

"This is Stella Blanc, a dancer who happened to be by the scene of the accident. She danced with the Paris Opera Ballet and has offered to fill in as our Raymonda," Stella walked forward and put a hand on her hip. She looked at all the dancers with a smirk, making Ivan fall harder in love.

"It is truly a pleasure to dance with one of the best ballet companies on the globe. But be warned, I take dancing seriously. If anyone messes around, your instructors' scoldings will have absolutely nothing on mine. Understand?" everyone nodded as the instructor smiled. She then looked forward.

"Ivan, I have chosen you to replace Irek. Pray you do not disappoint me," she then looked between Ivan and Stella, "warm up and go over your steps, the performance tonight will be nothing short of extraordinary," the instructor walked away as many dancer went to take their leave. Ivan looked to Stella with a smile as they went through the motions, finding her to be more than what he ever dreamed of.

As the two finished their dance, Ivan couldn't help but smile at Amelia. He gave her a bottle of water and opened one for himself.

"You are a great dancer, I am truly honored to have danced with talent like you,"

"You aren't too bad yourself, big guy. But your pirouettes could use some work, your footing was off when you finished,"

"Da, I was hoping you didn't notice that," Ivan blushed as he looked to his side. He then glanced at Amelia's face, finding his eyes fixated upon her earrings. The wonky shape of the natural pearl seemed so familiar to him, the ivory jewels having a similar shape to those Stella had worn.

"Something wrong, Ivan?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just admiring your earrings, pearls are so rare nowadays," Amelia chuckled and nodded.

"Pearls are my favorite type of stone, I've always preferred pearls to diamonds or rubies. These were a gift from my daughter, they're natural pearls. I always thought the natural pearl looked better than the shaped ones, it made them unique and rare. As you can tell, I adore things that are one-of-a-kind. Just makes me feel special,"

"Pearls also represent purity, wisdom, and generosity. They seem to offer good luck and protection for those whom wear them," Amelia nodded as she took more water from her bottle. Ivan began to feel Deja Vu as he flashbacked once again to Stella.

It was during a waterbreak that Ivan took notice of Stella's earrings. The lumpy earrings seemed so out of place on Stella, considering everything else about her was virtually perfect. But Ivan didn't question it, Stella, however took notice.

"You like them? A friend gifted them to me after he came back home from Hawaii. I know they're a little bit on the mishapen side, but that just adds to their value,"

"Do you think pearls are better than diamonds?" Stella thought for a moment before nodding.

"I like what they stand for. A diamond is a symbol of wealth while a pearl is a symbol of purity. I rather be pure than rich. The idea of being judged by my cut rather than my heart isn't appealing," Ivan quirked his brow in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Diamonds are known to be a girls best friend, but are defined by their clarity and cut for their worth. Pearls, however, are worth more when they are genuine. A natural pearl is worth more than one that has been cleaned and shaped by humans. The metaphor I was trying to make is I rather be loved for the real me as opposed to being carved into someone's ideal image. I rather have a stone's rarity define its worth rather than its perfection, as nothing can be truly perfect," Ivan smiled as Stella spoke, agreeing with her to the fullest extent.

"Well spoken, Stella," Ivan compliment. Stella smiled at him as they both continued to drink.

Ivan and Amelia had finished their waterbreak when Amelia stretched her arms, making her joints crack. Ivan truly admired every curve of Amelia's body and yearned for her touch. He was constantly reminded of Stella when he saw her stretch or smile, and her eyes often made him think about the last time he saw her. 

That was something Ivan always admired about Stella, her sparkling eyes. Yes, he loved her talent and ambition. But it was her eyes that truly made him weak in the knees. When he gazed at Amelia, he could only see Stella. It was as if Stella had been reincarnated and now was once again in his life. He had fallen for her again.

The last time he saw Stella was one of the saddest moments of his life. Aside from watching the imperial family get buried, losing Stella was one day he could never forget. No matter how much he would drink, no matter how much he would kill, nothing could scrub away the scene of Stella's final moments.

Stella had been a star in Raymonda, many of the audience finding her to be the most beautiful and talented ballerina the Bolshoi Ballet had ever showcased. She was a very noticeable face in Soviet Russia, who's heart became just as well-known in only a week. Stella had been known to always help someone in need: she stood up for the innocent on multiple occasions, she donated money to multiple charities and homeless people, she bought food for the many littering the streets, and even helped fight off a few robbers here and there.

She was such a beloved person in Soviet Russia that the government took immediate notice, to which Ivan took immediate notice. He was in the office of  Leonid Brezhnev, who was looking over a photo of Stella.

"This Stella Blanc, she seems to be making the population happy," he said in a gruff voice. He looked up to Ivan with an arched brow, making Ivan go rigid, "I would like you to be rid of her,"

"What?!"

"Ivan, she is not Russian. For all we know, she could be an American spy that will sabotage our success,"

"She is French!!! She is not American!!!"

"She is still of Western descent! Who knows what she is capable of! Haven't you seen the newspaper!" he took out a page and pointed to an article, "she single-handedly took down four men twice her size! She could probably kill you if she wanted!"

"Nyet, I will never harm Stella! She is the only good person in my life since-" Russia stopped himself and swallowed his words. But Leonid knew who he was about to say, he knew that Duchess Anastasia were going to be the next words to fly out of his mouth. He scoffed as he saw Russia's nostrils flare.

"If you won't do anything, than I will. Dismissed," he sat back down at his desk and Ivan stormed out. A week passed and Ivan still could not harm his precious Stella, which led to him often being seen by her side. Ivan did everything he could to protect her, but he ultimately failed.

The two were walking, hand in hand, down the frosted sidewalk. When they finally came to a crosswalk, they both looked either way before crossing. However, a large car came barrelling down the street, its headlights barely registering to Ivan. But Stella noticed and rushed forward, pushing Ivan out of the way.

"Vanya, look out!" the car slammed into her, causing her body to cripple itself in pain. When Ivan finally registered what had happened, he crawled right to her side. He took her in his arms and began to cry, feeling her body become cold as red leaked from her wounds.

"Stella, stay with me. Come on, sunflower, just stay awake," a crowd quickly began to gather and many went to call for help. 

"Vanya, it's ok. Everything will be ok," she smiled softly as she cuddled into his embrace. Her eyes became more and more distant, making Ivan's eyes overflow with tears.

"Nyet, come on. Please, I'm begging you Stella. Please, don't leave me alone," The streets became more and more packed as Stella drew her last breath. As soon as Ivan felt her go limp, he snapped. More tears rolled down his cheeks and his purple aura began to fill the streets. Sensing the doom, the people began to flee, only leaving Ivan in the streets as he cradled Stella. As soon as paramedics took Stella away, Ivan let out a gut wrenching cry.

A few days later, he slipped a poison into Leonid's food. The snow flurries down heavily as his boss had a heart attack right in front of him. He watched at Leonid clawed at his chest and begged him to help, but Ivan's eyes held nothing but ice as he glanced at him with disgust. A few days passed and he went to the imperial palace. It was Catherine the Great's death day, and he always placed a sunflower on her statue in a way to always remember her.

However, when he got there, he found a golden sunflower had already been placed on the statue. Looking around, he couldn't see anyone. There were also no footprints, leading him to suspect the flower had been placed their the previous night.

He wasn't aware that the placer was right behind him, hiding in a tree. Her sapphire eyes sparkling with love as Ivan placed the flower down and walked away.