InsaneJournal

WHO: Helena (with appearances from Darcy, Anastasia Romanov and Grand Duke Michael)
WHAT: Narrative, or Where in Time is Helena Kelly?
WHERE: Here and there and everywhere
WHEN: Days 1 – 3; so much catching up to do!

The spontaneous transportation from Bellum to Russia hadn’t been as unsettling as it should have been, which she supposed was unsettling in and of itself. Mina’s stronger presence wasn’t that jarring to her either. The woman never really went away during the rest of the month, not completely. While Helena was shocked at how much louder the voice was now, she wasn’t that upset. They could stand each other well enough, and it was Mina who quickly urged her to stop gawking and wondering and to find something to cover herself up with. Helena’s nightgown was long, but as it had been growing hotter in the New York, it wasn’t particularly warm.

She tried to make her way through the crowd when she heard someone – English in a sea of Russian and she zeroed in on the sound – and saw an equally ill-prepared woman. She didn’t recognize her face but Mina nearly leapt at the sound of her voice. Estella! Oh yes, Mina’s little forum friend and this must be the Darcy girl she was supposed to meet up with. Now was as good a time as any for first meetings and after quick introductions, they tried to make their way to some shelter.

Helena wasn’t exactly sure how Darcy had managed it. Neither of them understood one word of Russian, and they had certainly had never been to Russia before, let alone Russia’s past as was obvious from the clothes of the people around them. Somehow they found themselves in the basement of a boarding house on the edge of the town, the commotion outside loud and overpowering the sound of a window breaking in their basement. The clothes they found, left below before the owners could wash them, were dirty and too big but they were something and that was all that mattered.

When Helena asked how she knew to head to this place in particular, the younger woman merely gave her a sheepish smile, insisting that it was luck that guided her. With anyone else Helena might have been a little skeptical, and even Darcy herself wasn’t sure what to think about it. But with people from Bellum, it was just easier to take things at face value. If Darcy was lucky, then Helena was thankful she had found her. Inside the younger woman drifted to sleep fitfully while Helena stayed up, just in case, Mina keeping her company through the night and made sure they crept out early enough as to not be seen again in the light of dawn.

The feeling of Vlad’s presence in her mind was there as always, but she didn’t think to use it. Most of the time she ignored it rather easily enough, focusing her energy on blocking it out until it became an unconscious effort on her part. In the dead of the night she thought about seeking him out, but she decided against it. No matter how far she was from him, Vlad’s presence was there as if he was in the next room. It didn’t matter if she was one floor down, one mile away, one million, or in some supernatural circus; his presence was always felt. So the fact that she could still feel him now didn’t register in her mind that he could possibly be anywhere near her.

In the morning she suggested they return outside, back to where they had originally found each other. It was where they had been transported the night before; perhaps there was some clue to as to how. Why long stopped being an important question for either of them, as it all too often went unanswered. But how was still possible, and if there was a clue, Helena thought it was most likely there at the beginning of this fiasco. They vowed to stay together, safety in numbers after all, so Helena was entirely surprised and confused when Darcy made an inquisitive noise to their right and then darted away to her follow her curiosity. Helena was about to object but when she looked for her, she couldn’t see the other woman at all. She called her name but no answer.

She weaved through the morning crowd but still no sign of her. All too soon hands came out to firmly grip her arms, and clipped voices scolded her; she didn’t have to know the language to know the tone. She protested feebly and scanned the crowd for one last look around, but the people scattered once they saw her being escorted away, and still there was no Darcy in sight. Her luck had quite literally run out on her.

Once inside the palace she handed off to another woman, stern and stout and also full of reprimand. Helena could only try to protest in English, that there was some misunderstanding. Although instead of confusion, or at least complete confusion, she was met with an eye roll and pushed off toward more rooms. She couldn’t understand what was being said but she kept catching the same word over and over again, a name. It was one that sounded familiar, particularly with her surroundings, and hearing it only made her stomach sink faster. A change of clothes and some more directing and soon Helena found herself in an entirely different room.

Judging from the décor she knew it was one of the children’s quarters, and she peeked around to see if she could find some clue as to what she was supposed to be doing. There was the name again, and this time ran her fingers across it and the cover of the journal it graced. Anastasia. She flipped the book open in curiosity, the feeling of dread lingering as she spotted the dates in the corners, marking when they were written, all within 1917. Inside was some writing in English, with the occasional notation in different handwriting correcting the student’s spelling.

The door to bedroom opened and she fumbled with the book she was looking through, nearly dropping it in her haste. The girl that stepped through, lovely and young, was full of smiles and it stopped her in her tracks. Helena wasn’t a history expert, by any stretch of the imagination, but she knew a bit about the story of the Romanovs. Nothing specific, and even the dates in the journal paper weren’t ringing any bells as to what events in history she had stepped into, but she knew the fate of the girl and her family. Seeing her, alive and well, had her stomach turning to knots.

Despite the Russian, Helena could hear the familiarity in Anastasia’s voice when she greeted her. The girl knew her, and knew her well, and not for the first time she wondered at how powerful the magic at Bellum must work. She wondered what she should do, how she should explain herself, when the girl’s smile froze, spotting the journal Helena held in her hands. Her face darkened slightly and somewhere between a scowl and a pout she spoke in rapid fire Russian. Helena could only stare at her blankly but once she began to apologize in English, the girl interrupted her.

“English? Again? But we did that yesterday.” Helena stared blankly for a moment and then flipped through the book in her hands, remembering the notations on the sides pointing out grammar and spelling mistakes. Even before Mina could say something, Helena was already speaking.

“Well, it will not hurt to continue to practice.” Her words came out slowly, taking great care to enunciate as if she was truly concerned about the girl’s grasp of the language. “But if you like, we can leave the writing portion for another day.” Anastasia took the compromise in stride and chirped happily as she went through – what Helena assumed her usual – practiced English dialogue. "Good morning, I am..." "How do you do..." "Isn’t the weather..." On and on she practiced and Helena nearly fell to the ground in relief although already she was worried her luck would run out and Anastasia would tire of practicing English.

Then practice French, at least. Mina sounded like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

But I don’t— Mina made an exasperated noise.

Do they teach you nothing at all? Mina huffed and Helena suppressed an eyeroll. And your Latin?

Remedial, at best. All religious, but it won’t help us here. Eastern Orthodox, most likely. Mina made the mental equivalent of a nod, clearly impressed that her host came to the same conclusion as she did. And then some… Helena hadn’t forgotten about the rumors of Rasputin and his supposed abilities, but before she could explain it to Mina in detail, Anastasia had grabbed her by the hand through the palace they went.

The rest of the day was spent in a blur in the company of the young Grand Duchess herself. Helena was equal parts babysitter, tutor, companion all rolled into one, a governess as Mina corrected her, even though this era was beyond the woman’s time too. While the girl did slip back to Russian with most everyone else they encountered, Helena made it a gentle point not to answer the girl until she reverted to English, or French, although it always took a little longer for Mina to translate and for Helena to have the appropriate English response. She innocently asked Anastasia who was who around the palace, all under the guise of letting the girl hone her English, while trying to figure out what was going on. She didn’t run into anyone she recognized, although she thought she caught sight of a familiar head of long brown hair clustered around the former Empress herself. Once as she passed through the kitchen she thought she spotted the profile of someone she knew, before Anastasia’s laugh interrupted her search and she had to scurry around to follow her. By the end of the day Helena was exhausted, not having slept the night before and then to have her energy depleted by the incredibly energetic duchess. Once she was directed to servant’s quarters she fell into a deep sleep, her blanket pulled up tight over her head as she was no longer freezing cold. Her thoughts were of Vlad, and of Darcy, and she gave up a quick prayer for them before she slumbered.

The next day, her third in Russia’s past, passed by much the same. She awoke early, still not enough sleep, and hurried to get dressed to see Anastasia, her only source of knowledge here. She casually name dropped a few people, Darcy, Vlad, and Ella and Peter for good measure - for she wondered and worried about them as well, but the younger woman only shook her head as none of those sounded familiar. Physical descriptions were no use either so instead Helena gave up for the moment and let the girl talk, listened to her worries about her hint about her family, although not in great detail, before returning to more carefree topics.

Every once in a while she caught a man staring at her, at a distance, giving her a small and appreciative smile whenever she met his gaze. Judging from the way everyone acted around him, scurrying around and showing him great respect as they encountered him, she knew he was someone and made it a point to avert her eyes respectfully. When she asked Anastasia about him, she promptly revealed his name, his status (although there was just a hint of something, between sadness and irritation at his title and his intentions) and with a smirk she added, “I believe he thinks you beautiful.” The look was very reminiscent of Helena’s sisters and she could only laugh.

“I’m quite sure there are others more so.”

“Not many, actually.” Anastasia was all smirks and pointed glances in front of her, and this new male voice came from behind her. She whirled around and showed him the proper deference, just like she had seen others do, but he kept trying to talk to her with much more familiarity. He was handsome, of course, and charming, as they usually were and while Helena talked to him, she tried to keep a fair amount of distance while maintaining the picture of politeness. Mina approved of course, although it was because she still had hopes for Peter, and not because Helena still thought of Vlad.

The Grand Duke was undeterred and even when she excused herself and her charge, he made it a point to greet her every time they ran into each other on the palace grounds. And he made it a point that they should run into each other often. Even when she left to go into the town, hoping to find Darcy to see if she was okay, he was there, smiles and questions, trying to coax warmer smiles or a blush from her, succeeding only a few times.

When she was ready to return to the palace and she was about to make her excuses he invited her to be his guest to the dinner the following evening. She protested, and gave a variety of reasons, chief of them being his standing and her lack thereof, but he would have none of it. He promised her something to wear, promised that she would have a good time, countered every excuse she had shy of telling him that she was some sort of time traveling anomaly, and she finally relented. She unfortunately wasn't in a position to say no. Anastasia was all laughs when she returned, insisting that she tell her all about it after it was done and Helena promised that too.

As she went to bed that night and drifted off to sleep, she wondered if tomorrow she’d have some time to try to find a way out of this mess. The occurrences at Bellum always became progressively more strange but usually they spanned a day, or a night. Now she was verging on her fourth day in Russia and still no end in sight and worry flooded her. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt Vlad’s once more in her mind and finally decided to give it one try. She pulled down her usual mental barriers and called out to him.

Vlad…? but before she could listen for an answer, or call out to him again, sleep took Helena completely, much to Mina’s complete relief.