It was dark and she had been sleeping when she felt hands touch her, sliding between her prone body and the hard, cold surface of the floor. They were large, broad, and so warm as they lifted her up without straining, as though she weighed little more than a bag of apples. She probably didn't. She had never weighed much to begin with, but little food combined with unusual stress on her body had taken their toll.
They had always said she didn't take care of herself. She knew she should eat better, but it was so hard to say 'No' to someone who needed her.
A slender hand hung below her as she was cradled against a wide chest. She had no energy to lift it with. Where had the shackles gone? The ones strung with crystal? They must have removed them while she slept. She didn't mourn the loss, her head resting heavily against someone's shoulder, fur warm and soft under her cheek. She was so cold... but warmth was seeping up from the body she rested against and she could have cried for how wonderful it was.
Boots echoed off crystal walls, but Ida refused to open her eyes to it. She didn't want to know where she was going, what was happening... This had to be a trick of some kind. Alkaid would not have lifted her so tenderly and she was so much smaller than whomever carried her now, but the ascended was everything, now. Her captor, her tormentor. The sole living thing that ever came into the small room that was her world now. She almost looked forward to seeing her, when she came with small gifts of food and water, and left with Ida's strength and vitality. The loneliness was a piercing ache, when she wasn't there.
The echo faded and was replaced with a far more natural sound. Wind, moving through trees. Bird song. Voices and bustle, like many people going about the business of living. Familiar sounds she never thought she would hear again. It had to be a trap, but the lure was irresistable. Ida felt cool fingers touch her feverish face and her eyes fluttered open, staring up at familiar faces. Her heart skipped a beat and then picked up pace, pounding in her chest as she gave a small, pathetic squirm.
She couldn't... this was... how?
Hver smiled and soothed her with small shushes from pursed lips, their oddly, endearing, twisted shape hidden behind a filmy scarf. Above her head, Naer said something she couldn't make out and his voice rumbled through the chest under her head like thunder in a drum. All around them, the camp came to life as people rushed towards them, dear, familiar faces smiling to see her.
Bohlinia hovered over Hver's shoulder, impatient to get closer to her 'sister'. Chariklo stood back and smiled with tears in her eyes, her arm around Amytis's shoulders and the twins on her hips.
Everyone was there, welcoming her. They had come, at last, and taken her out of the darkness the Negaverse had put her in. They'd come, and she wasn't alone any more... She was safe. Alkaid couldn't reach her any more.
Ida's sight grew watery as tears gathered and broke with a sob, sliding thick and wet down her cheeks. She couldn't brush them away, her arms felt so heavy... But Hver did it for her, hands cupping her face and sweeping thumbs across her cheeks. Ida cried for relief and release of all the fear and pain, soaking Naer's shirt with it as he held her, steady as a rock.
She was home.
She was home, and she was safe and...
Ida jerked awake, hearing her boots and bracelets scrape against stone as her muscles spasmed and pain blossomed, exhausted limbs protesting the sudden movement. Dark eyes blinked out into a deeper darkness and everywhere, there was silence. The floor was hard and cold. There were no arms. No voices. No hands on her face.
She stared out from where she lay in Alkaid's tower and felt hot tears run down her cheeks, joining the wetness already there.
Word Count: 695
