Into the Wild

Deep woods

The cold seeped into her bones, the flimsy, ripped and soiled clothes she had so proudly worn into the ministry all those months ago were slowly becoming covered in a soft dew of melted snow, as the minimal body heat her body still projected made contact with the white padding she laid in. Around her there were sounds of movement, others waking, pulling themselves to their feet.

But the minister of magic continued to lay there, oblivious to it all. Lost in her own mind, Kallie did not awake.



The woman laid across the bed, her long blond hair covering her face, though it was obvious from the way that she moved sleep - or unconsciousness - had come over her. She was older than she remembered, but the features were familiar to her.

Kallie had done this before.

Little feet padded across the ground , she couldn't have been more than six or seven (she had given up past that age) made their way across the floor, pulling her small body onto the bed, small hands shaking.

"Mama! Wake up Mama! I need you Mama - please! Wake up!"



Around Kallie people approached. Any words, spoke to her or anyone else washed over her completely unnoticed.



Suddenly the images tilted; confusion spread as the shaking suddenly transferred to her. Nothing changed about the scene, a woman still laid on the bed, dead to the world, a small child - her child - beside her trying to shake her awake.

Only Kallie realized that she had been wrong. She wasn't the child.

She was the woman.

"Mama! Wake up Mama! Why don't you help me Mama! Please Mama."

She wanted to - tried to. The calls tugging at her heart, breaking it, but it was too far away. There was too much pushing her down.

I'm trying! She tried to speak, but the words never came out. Wait Darling, please! I'm trying! I'm -




"I'm sorry, my darling," the mumbled words coming out of the woman's lips, the first sounds she had made since being dropped there, were in a language foreign to most who would have been hovering around her. Finnish, her native language being what her starved brain reverted to, " I can't. I can't."

"Minister," Sophia repeated, shaking the other woman gently. "Wake up fer me, now, lass. Minister?"

A shiver shuddered through her body, the cold of the woods in which they had waken chilling her very bones, it seemed. The last thing she recalled was a wand being leveled at her, then darkness before waking here. There was no telling how long she or the other women had been out. Sophia had crawled to the first person she could reach, intent on waking her before it was too late.

Merlin, did she pray it was not too late. "Minister Kallie Nikkala," Sophia commanded sharply, a distinct trace of concern in her tone, "ye open yer eyes fer me, now." She shot a wild glance at the other two where they lay a few feet further off. "That goes fer th' two of ye, as well. Ye hear?"

Etta woke slowly, sitting up and glancing around before a grin tugged at her lips. Slowly, she reached into her pocket, searching for the small bit of rations she'd stowed there each day and sighing when her pockets proved empty. Yawning and stretching, the woman rose to her feet, taking in her surroundings only after taking on the condition of each of the other captives.

"I sure wish Basi was here." She said, her words soft and calm. "As well as the others."

The ocean of blue above reflected in her eyes. Clouds, like waves rippling through the sky, danced through the flimsy, naked treetops and continued on towards the horizons. Out of her reach. Alise could only watch their brightness slip away as she lay, twisted and contorted on the ground. A cold gush of wind whipped her greasy, unwashed hair across her face suddenly.

And yet, she couldn't be happier.

Freedom was on her tongue, on her lips. Her bones rattled from excitement as she rolled herself over to glance at the other women. They seemed fine, except for Kallie.

Alise rose to her knees, reaching towards the group with wide eyes, then tumbled back to the cold ground, leaves her new pillow. A buzz echoed in her mind, destroying her current chances of moving.

"Is alright?" Alise choked out in rough, grated English, nodding towards the minister. The Russian propped herself on to her elbows softly, letting the swimming feeling subside. "I help,"
^^

A pair of house elves suddenly appeared in the clearing, one garbed in attire that almost laughably eclectic. She was the one to start speaking in rapid-fire Russian almost the instant she had appeared.

"Miss Alise!" Ketty exclaimed, tongue practically tripping over her words. "Miss Alise - we have been looking everywhere for you! Sacha-" The freeborn* abruptly vanished again, leaving her kin behind. An instant later, she reappeared with Sacha.

The man stared at her for all of half a second before dropping to his knees before her, expression having never been so open or raw with emotion. He cradled her face between his hands for a moment, as though not quite certain she was real. Then, he pulled her gently up and to him, wrapping his arms around her as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"I'm sorry," Sacha rasped. Tears had risen to his eyes to tumble unhindered down his face. "Thank, Merlin you're- I... I'm so sorry, Alise. So deeply and truly sorry."

Spoiler:

He felt the pull far away in the Underground distracting him from his feeding duties. It wasn't a usual wish. This one was personal and struck a chord in his body. For a moment he thought it was Etta but she had been gone so long even the goblins had started giving up hope that they would ever find her.

His duties could not be shirked, even with having to care for his twins. He conjured a dual back carrier and settled Theran and Pepper into their seats, trying to calm their fussing. Lifting it onto his back Basil sighed and followed the tug of the magic to the wisher.

Appearing in a forest was the last thing he expected and as he looked around the Goblin King almost fell over in shock. Standing not three feet in front of him was his beloved wife. Striding forward on shaking legs he reached for Etta and cupped her face in both hands.

"You're alive," he sobbed, voice raw with emotion as tears began to run down his cheeks. "I had almost given up hope of ever finding you again." He was switching rapidly between languages, betraying exactly how overwhelmed he was. "Oh Merlin, my sweet Etta."

He ran his fingers through her hair and down to her hips as if still not sure she was actually standing in front of him. "I will never let someone take you from me again. I will not rest until whoever did this to you is brought to justice under my boot." Basil leaned his forehead against his wife's. "I can't lose you again."

There was not a sound, no break of treebranch or sound of step, but suddenly the small group was surrounded, unidentifiable figures surrounding them on all sides, the shadows keeping their identities masked. One pushed his way forward - the others closing ranks behind him - the Head Auror easily identifiable once he stepped into the clearing proper. He did not waste any glances on the others, one seeking gaze before his vision caught on her, and suddenly he no longer cared about anyone else.

He moved with incredible speed to her side, slipping his arms under her shoulders and knees and hoisting her into his arms. "Are you alright?" He murmured softly, only to her hearing. He gave the woman kneeled next to him - Lady Chaos - a nod, before his attention was completely taken over by his Volchonka once more. "Koiranpentu on tullut pelastamaan sinut, Volchonka." He murmured softly. "Sinun ei tarvitse pelätä enää."

Spoiler:

There was noise, why as there so much noise? The woman, jolted into reality, focusing on the sounds if nothing else, by the firm order of a woman's voice, tried to push her eyelids open, tried to pull herself from the deep abyss she was trapped in, but it was useless, the air was still pushing her down, keeping her captive.

Even free - though her mind did not process the freedom - she was trapped, this time by herself.

The noises contiued about her, overwhelming and consuming her - try as her brain might, it couldn't follow what was going on, and it couldn't -

Then the dull wet cold that had been seeping into her, becoming such a constant to this world she had woken up to, she had forgot to question it, and was replaced by a solid warmth - which her cold frail body curled towards on instinct if nothing more.

The familiar voice, seeping through her ears, warming her brain, spoken in the language her brain most inclinde to translate sent a shock through her. A shock of familiarity - as well as a torn impulse to curl closer and pull away as well. In the end she was to weak to do either. The effort to open her eyes had been almost so great that she almost closed them as soon as she had seen the face.

"Pentu," the only word she had truly processed. She lifted a hand, half a movement before she gave up and dropped it again. There was something she had to say, that she needed, "anteeksi, anteeksi... Olen kylmä-kylmä, anteeksi,Kylmä, anteeksi, anteeksi ."

And babbling the two words more to herself than to Brock anymore, her eyes drifted close again, her mind returning to drifting in and out of focus.

Spoiler:

For nearly six weeks now Ric had been out tirelessly searching for his wife. A wife who still couldn't recall the memories he considered the best of his existence, the day they met, their first date, their wedding day not even the birth of her own son. But he had to find her if there was even the smallest of chances that he could win back her heart then he would never stop trying, not until his own stopped beating.

But he found her, all the signs pointed to here so she had to be, there was no possible way around it. He would rip this forest apart until her found her. But it was Ghost who stumbled across them first, letting out a soft bark to let Ric know but he wasn't far behind her. "Sophia!" He cried as he fell to his knees before her. "I thought i was going to lose you." He frowned as he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. It was cold out here and she definitely needed it more than he did. "I have no idea what i would have done without you."

One by one, their rescuers arrived. They were able to be tracked, again, Sophia realized. What sort of wards or magic could have worked so effectively against so many beings?

Sophia returned the nod given her by the man, an auror perhaps, who rushed to the Minister's side. Sacha Rusnak and the head of Beauxbatons had come to take their respective wives into their arms. There was a brief moment when Ric had yet to appear during which the Scot felt an irrational flash of fear that he wouldn't come after all. Last time she'd seen him-

And then he had come for her, just as the more sensible part of her knew he would. Tears pricked her eyes as he dropped to his knees before her, removing his jacket to wrap around her. He was here. He was real. He was here...

Sophia reached out a hand to caress his cheek. "I knew ye'd come," she choked out. "Ye always come, evere time I needed ye. Always." The woman leaned forward, curling into the man's chest as though she had no intention of ever moving. "I've missed ye so much."

It started out as a shiver, one which could easily have been caused by the cold, but then she shivered again and again until finally she was simply trembling all over. Six weeks. Six weeks and she had been sectumsempra'd and barely healed, half starved, caged in a dank cellar, taunted by their captors, and afraid.

Sophia hadn't given in to the hopelessness of the circumstances in which she and the other woman had found themselves. She had clung tenaciously to the belief that they would not die in that dark place. The Scot had persisted in her encouragement that they would be rescued, they would be free again.

But there'd been moments when she was not so certain; times when it seemed that she would be drowned in those feelings though she struggled to tread their floodwaters. Now, they could see daylight again. Asric was with her, now. He'd come to save her again. Now...

Burying her face in the cloth of Ric's shirt, Sophia did that which she had not allowed herself in six hellish weeks: she fell to pieces.

Etta smiled softly at her King's arrival, holding a soft hand over his and leaning into his touch. "I do hope you haven't been too worried. I will always find a way back to you." Her eyes searched his, before flicking to over his shoulder, seeing the twins there made her smile even wider. "Surely you never lost hope. You never should. Don't you know that?" She sighed happily, glowing under his attentions. "I am in one piece, we all are." Physically.

Something in her eyes changed at those words, the difference almost palpable in the air around her before she contained it. "Vengeance and Revenge are not things to be taken lightly, darling." She said, her voice soft. "I am not worth the war this will bring. We are only four, we are not worth the deaths." Her eyes searched his, imploring him to listen to her, fingers tracing over his features. It was nice to see him again. That was for sure.

"This is a talk for a later time." She decided, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against his lips. "May we go home, Mister Brock? Or is there something official that must be done first?" Her eyes flickered to the familiar man, a small smile playing on her lips before she was looking back at her Basil. "I wish to go home, Basi."

Alise rested her weak head in the palms of her lover, staring up at him with wide, crystalline eyes full of disbelief. All of this was a dream, wasn't it? Some sick joke? Another ploy to break down their emotions before finally ending the women's pitiful lives? The Russian almost pulled away from the man, her drugged self untrusting of the image before her eyes.

Then the warmth of his face pressed against her neck and Alise heard a sound she had only heard once before- Sacha crying. In a single moment, every minute of suffering, love, pain, lust they had shared to together feel into place and she knew this was in no way a dream.

"Sacha," she mewled, wrapped her arms around him. No other words seemed to craw through her throat, so she merely repeated his name, over and over, as her tears began to flow, almost as to join his.