Author's note: Hi, everyone! This is my first ever fanfic and I really hope you like it! I'm crazy about the Percy Jackson series and I positively LOVE the 20th Century Fox film 'Anastasia', so I thought it would be a great crossover story. As far as I know, this is the first ever Percy Jackson/Anastasia crossover story on , so, if I don't sound too cheesy, I'm honoured to be the first. Anyway, I hope you like it! So you don't get confused, I've written out a list of who's who below:

Anastasia: Portrayed by Annabeth/Anya Chase

Dimitri: Portrayed by Percy Jackson

Vladimir: Portrayed by Grover Underwood

Dowager Empress: Portrayed by Queen Hera

Sophie: Portrayed by Juniper

Rasputin: Portrayed by Lord Kronos

Bartok: Portrayed by Ethan Nakamura

Tsar Nicholas: Portrayed by Frederick Chase

Czarina Alexandra: Portratyed by Lady Athena

Orphanage owner: Portrayed by Dionysus

Oh, and before I forget, this first chapter has Hera narrating, so I will write her parts in italics, okay? Enjoy!

Chapter One: Together In Paris

'There was a time, not very long ago, when we lived in an enchanted world of elegant palaces and grand parties. The year was 1906, and my son-in-law, Frederick, was Tsar of Imperial Athens.

The elderly Dowager Empress Hera sat down on the smallest of the three thrones at the front of the ballroom of the Imperial Palace, watching the festivity unfold in front of her.

We were celebrating the 300th anniversary of the Chase family's rule. And that night, no star burned brighter than that of our sweet Annabeth, my youngest grandchild.

Spotting her youngest grandchild, Annabeth, dancing with Tsar Frederick, she waved, smiling. Annabeth was the curious age of eight, fierce, lively and clever. She had curly blonde hair that tumbled down past her shoulders, and her mother Athena's intense grey eyes.

'Grandmamma!' she called out, delighted to see Hera. She ran across the ballroom and made her way up the steps until she reached Hera. She fumbled in her pocket for a moment, then pulled out a drawing of herself, and handed it to her grandmother. Hera smiled, then reached into her own pocket. Annabeth stared, wondering what was inside.

She begged me not to return to Olympus, so I had a very special gift made for her, to make the separation easier for both of us.

Finally Hera opened her palm, revealing a small, golden box with a lid encrusted with green jewels. There was a keyhole in the back of the box. Also in Hera's hand was a necklace with a pendant that must have been the key.

Annabeth beamed. 'For me? Is it a jewellery-box?'

Hera smiled, holding up the necklace and slotting it into the keyhole. 'Look.'

Annabeth watched, mesmerized, as the lid of the box slowly opened, revealing a tiny statuette of Tsar Frederick and Czarina Athena dancing together, twirling round and round. A tinkly lullaby started playing.

'It plays our lullaby!' she breathed, watching the tiny statuette.

'You can play it when you go to sleep, and pretend it is me singing,' said Hera, taking Annabeth's hand and slowly swaying to the music. She started singing; 'On the wind, across the sea

Hear this song and remember,'

Annabeth joined in, twirling round and grinning.

'Soon you'll be, home with me,

Once upon a December…'

Hera handed Annabeth the necklace, and pointing to the pendant, said, 'Read what it says.'

Annabeth held the pendant between her finger and thumb, squinting to see the gold words engraved on it that she hadn't noticed before. 'Together… in Olympus…' she said slowly, then realised what the message meant and grinned widely, her grey eyes shining. 'Really? Oh, Grandmamma!' She hugged Hera, joy filling her.

'But we would never be together in Olympus. A dark shadow had descended upon the house of the Chase family. His name was… Kronos. We thought he was a holy man, but he was a fraud, power-mad and dangerous.'

A cloaked figure strode through the ballroom, a young boy with an eye-patch lurking behind him. The guests gasped and parted as he cut through them, terrified. Annabeth whimpered in fear and crawled onto Hera's lap, seeking reassurance. The figure removed the hood of his cloak, and everyone's expression turned either angry or stunned as they realised who it was – Kronos, the man who had betrayed the Chase family and tried to kill them. He had an old, wrinkled face, but his eyes radiated power, glowing gold. In his hand, he carried a small glass cylinder with stone vines that led up to a skull twined around it – a reliquary. It was filled with an eerie green mist, swirling around inside.

Tsar Frederick stormed up to Kronos, a murderous look on his face. 'How dare you return to the palace!' he yelled.

Kronos acted offended, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. 'But, I am most loyal to your family!' he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Frederick was fuming. He waved his hand as if swatting an invisible fly. 'Loyal! Ha – you are a traitor! Get out!'

Kronos' expression turned angry. 'You think you can banish the great Lord Kronos! By the unholy powers vested in me, I banish you with a curse! Mark my words, you and your family will die within the fourth night!' He turned and faced the people behind them. 'I WILL NOT REST UNTIL I SEE THE END OF THE CHASE LINE FOREVER!'

Kronos held up the reliquary, and the green mist shot out of the stone skull's mouth, zipping upwards and tangling itself around the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It broke loose from its chain, and fell. The guests screamed and dived out of the way seconds before it hit the floor and smashed. Then, Kronos disappeared.

'Consumed by his hatred for Frederick and his family, Kronos sold his soul for the power to destroy them. From that moment on, the spark of unhappiness in our country was fanned into a flame that would soon destroy our lives forever.'

Nights later, the curse had taken its toll on the royal family. Kronos' dark magic had sparked a revolution, and the people developed the same hatred for them as Kronos had. The palace was under attack, and the Chases were hurrying to escape.

Annabeth and Hera were running through the halls with the others, when Annabeth cried out, 'My music-box!' She turned and ran in the other direction.

'Annabeth!' said Hera in protest. 'Come back! Come back!'

Annabeth burst into her room with Hera close behind. She searched frantically for the music-box. Spotting it resting on her dresser, she grabbed it and she and Hera turned for the door, when they heard a gunshot echoing outside. The soldiers were getting closer.

Behind them, a wall opened and a boy Annabeth's age looked out – messy black hair and sea-green eyes. It was Percy, the youngest of the servants in the palace. Seeing the danger Annabeth and her grandmother were in, he scrambled from his hiding place and ran to them.

'Hurry!' he said, shoving them to the opening in the wall. 'Come this way, out the servants' quarters! Hurry!'

In the panic, Annabeth dropped her music-box and it clattered to the floor. She was halfway into the opening, then realised she wasn't holding it. She turned to Percy. 'Wait, my music-box!'

'No time!' said Percy, shaking his head and pushing back towards the opening. 'Go, go!'

Once Annabeth was inside the opening, he closed the wall. There was a pounding on the bedroom doors, and a group of soldiers armed with rifles burst in. 'Where are they?' one of them growled. Percy desperately tried to defend himself and threw a nearby lamp at them, but it did no harm. The soldier hit him on the head with the butt of his rifle, and Percy was knocked out.

Outside the palace, Annabeth and Hera were running towards the train-station, when suddenly Kronos appeared out of nowhere, golden eyes glowing. He held the reliquary in his hand, looking particularly evil.

Hera gasped. 'Kronos!'

'You will never escape me, child!' he yelled, grabbing Annabeth by the ankle.

Annabeth struggled and kicked. 'Let me go! Let me go, please!'

Fortunately for Annabeth, it was heavily snowing that night, and there was a thin layer of ice over the lake they were trying to cross. The ice cracked underneath Kronos' feet, and he lost his grip on Annabeth's ankle and the reliquary, sinking into the water.

Annabeth and Hera reached the train-station at last. It was crowded with people, whistles ringing and snow coming down in heavy torrents. They ran over the tracks to reach the train that was about to depart, but Annabeth was growing tired and struggling to keep up with Hera.

'Annabeth, hurry! Hurry!' said Hera, keeping an eye on the train, that was starting to move. They reached the train, and Hera managed to climb on board, but Annabeth's hand slipped out of hers and she stumbled in an effort to keep up with the train.

'Grandmamma!' she panted, trying to grab the railing at the back of the train.

Hera extended her arm, reaching out. 'Take my hand, Annabeth! Take my hand!' Luckily, she managed to get a grip on Annabeth's hand. 'Hold onto my hand! '

'Don't let go!' Annabeth pleaded, as the train built up speed and struggled to keep running. Then, in one fatal moment, she stumbled and fell onto the tracks, banging her head on the hard metal.

'Anastasia!' Hera called out, looking at the limp form of her granddaughter. She couldn't lose that dear little girl. 'Anastasia!'

The train blasted one final, loud whistle, and steamed off down the track and out of the city, leaving behind the young Annabeth, possibly forever.