kingmath (kingmath) wrote in odysseyic, @ 2018-04-10 18:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | henrik, zara |
Rescue Mission
Who: Henrik and Zara
Setting: Escape from Stockholm!
Zara had stayed holed up in the little room she’d found. Her feet ached without her shoes, but it was better than trying to run in high heels; not that she couldn’t do it, but if she did happen to hurt an ankle then she was done for. She’d discarded her shoes and kept up communications with Henrik - it was he that kept her calm and sane and filled with hope that she would make it out of Stockholm alive.
Eventually, she had to leave her little room. The people were smart, apparently they had done this before, and were searching buildings room by one that they thought she would hide in. She was able to pry open the window and climb through. Lucky enough it had been a ground floor room, she wasn’t stupid enough to go to higher floors where there would have been no escape. Once her feet were on the ground, she made her way towards the river that Henrik had mentioned, every couple of blocks she updated her location on her phone so he would know where she was.
She had made it almost to the point when she heard a group of people. From what she could make out, they were saying that if they captured her, they could use her to get on the Odyssey, if not they would kill her and someone could impersonate her. She ducked behind a tree and prayed like hell they wouldn’t see.
Henrik, I’ve got as far as I could. I’m almost to the location, but there is a group out here. I’m hiding behind a tree that I am about to climb… She sent the text with her location, though knew it was only approximate, and then quietly as she could climbed the tree and stayed quiet.
Henrik had been making his way up the banks of the river, staying off the roads and down at the very water’s edge. It had been hard going in places, through the snow and ice, knowing that a wrong foot could send him plunging into the icy waters below. He didn’t worry too much. This was his terrain. The country of his birth, the country he’d been born to rule wasn’t too far from here and he’d learned how to survive its harsh climate and winter challenges along with everything else. He was dressed for the cold and dark, small bag strapped to his bag with some provisions, as well as a pair of boots and some warmer clothes for Zara. He’d thought ahead, knowing the cold could kill her just as much as whoever was after her.
So far, he’d managed to evade detection, though his injuries from the fight he’d been in earlier that day were a throbbing awareness in the back of his mind. They were nothing bad, nothing that would slow him down. A cut to his cheek and some grazed knuckles. People often thought of him as nothing more than the pampered Prince, but he’d fought for his country when the revolution had come - even if he’d had to do it under an assumed identity.
He stopped in the shadows of a bridge when her message came in. Final coordinates and not too far from here. He moved quickly, running with more speed and less care, relying on his momentum to keep him going when the snowbank collapsed beneath him into the river. He leaped, and landed firm. He scrambled up the bank. There, that must be the tree. He could see the group she must have been referring to searching the area a little way back. Unslinging the bag and making sure his long hair was tucked up into the dark beanie he was wearing against the cold, he silently padded toward Zara’s hiding place, hoping that the men wouldn’t turn round. That they wouldn’t see him, but ready to sling the bag up into the branches if they did. Ready to give her what she needed before he would have to turn and fight.
As a child, Zara had been a terrific tree climber much to her parents dismay; proper young ladies did not climb trees. Never would they know how it would come in handy to save her life. She was as still as she could be on the branch she had climbed to and watched the group, shivering from the cold. As long as they stayed where they were, she would be good, but she didn’t expect them to. They would come in her direction eventually.
She almost missed the man that approached the tree, he was dressed in such dark clothing, only catching his movement out of the corner of her eye. She was like a statue, not even daring to breath until the man turned his face upwards.
“Henrik!” She squeaked out quietly and let out a breath of relief. It was so good to see him. So very good. She looked back toward the group, but they had moved out of her line of sight, tree limbs obscuring them. “Is it safe to come down?”
Henrik shook his head, placing a finger to his lips. “Put on the boots, the jacket… Go on,” he whispered, projecting just enough for her to hear, hopefully not enough for them. He wanted her ready to go the moment she hit the ground and until then, she was safer in the tree. He gestured, then flattened himself, half crouching, against the trunk, eyes on the crowd, waiting for if any of them turned round.
Zara fumbled with the bag, and fumbled even more trying to put the boots and jacket on. Her fingers were so cold. She nearly fell out of the tree once trying to get the boot on, but she managed without too much noise. Once everything was on, she shifted on the branch and then looked down at him. She was so glad he had come, but worried about him too. If he got hurt, it would be all her fault. But he had come for her, and that meant everything in the world to her. Her eyes shifted to the crowd and she felt her heart leap to see that they were slowly making their way in their direction.
Henrik looked up at her, then followed her gaze. Fuck. “Stay up there,” he whispered, harshly, then stepped forward, walking toward the crowd, hands out by his sides as though showing that he meant no harm.
Maybe it worked, just a little. Enough that the crowd didn’t rush him. Enough that they stopped in a circle a little way from him, pushing a leader out to talk to him. Henrik listened to the usual bullshit asking about who he was and what the hell he thought he was doing here. Clearly they hadn’t recognised him. At least he spoke the language.
Unfortunately, the fictional persona he’d come up with on the way didn’t pass muster. Henrik didn’t know what part of it clued them into the lie, but he could read the crowd. Read when it shifted into hostile. Enough that he was ready for it what the ringleader swung for him.
He was outnumbered, clearly, no question, but he also knew how to fight dirty. The ringleader went down instantly with a fist driven into his windpipe, choking and writhing on the ground as Harry stepped over him, looking for the next victim. Anger drove that one on. Seeing his buddy fall so quickly, not stopping to think. He came from the right. Henrik caught the movement, stepped to the side and let the guy’s momentum carry him past. He caught the man’s arm and twisted. The crack was buried in the growing shouts, but the man went down all the same, arm fractured and dislocated. Driven into unconsciousness by a heavily booted foot.
The next three went down just as quickly, Henrik moving with the deadly grace born of training and experience and after that, the crowd lost their appetite. These man hadn’t signed up to die. There would be easier targets out there in the night.
Zara’s eyes went wide the moment the fighting started. Hell no, she was not staying in that tree. She could...fight. Of course, she just knew defensive skills, self-defense, but not enough to take on a crowd of men. One maybe, but more than that and it was a no deal. She clambored from the tree, jumping down and landing gracefully in a crouch. She would help, Henrik. That was her plan, but as the fighting continued she realized that he didn’t need her help. In fact, it seemed he needed no ones help. He was like some...god, taking on the crowd. She pressed her back against the tree and watched in awe and astonishment. When the last of the men started to take off, grabbing their friends and carting them off.
“Henrik…” she called out to him, her eyes darting around in the dark, looking for anyone else that might not have taken off with the others. “Are you alright?”
He turned to her as the night fell silent once again. “I’m fine,” he assured her. There were bruises, but most were from the fights before, getting to the ship prior to departure, when he’d been less prepared for a fight and it had been more of a scramble. “Are you? Can you walk? We should get out of here before they remember their courage and numbers and come back.”
Zara was realizing that there was more than she realized that she didn’t know about Henrik. He was definitely not the same boy she’d known years ago. It wasn’t a bad thing, of course. “I’m fine,” she said. “Just a few scratches and bruises, no one touched me,” she made sure to point the last part out. No one had harmed her, the scratches and bruises were from climbing out of the window, running through brushes, climbing a tree. She nodded about walking and wrapped her arms around herself before stepping closer to him. She couldn’t believe he had come for her, but in a way she guessed she could. She didn’t know anyone else that would have done what he did, except maybe her father and that didn’t count. Hell, even the ship wasn’t going to come back for her and Henrik had to go out of his way and then fight for his life in order to keep her safe. “Thank you for coming for me,” she smiled up at him. “I’m ready to get out of here.”
“Let’s go then,” Harry said, wrapping an arm around her and holding her close as he hurried them off down the street, round and corner and into the night. The pace he set was bruising, keeping them to the shadows at the sides, switching directions often and keeping off the main roads. Luckily it was late and the streets were mostly empty. He kept one ear out for sounds, shifting their direction if there was even the hint of someone up ahead until they finally reached the river.
The banks were pitch black, chunks of ice floating at the edges of the water the only indicator of where land ended, but at least it was mostly firm. Letting go of her, he slid down the bank a little, so that he was hidden from the road and turned, holding his hand out for her. “Come on, I promise I won’t let you fall in the river.”
Zara ran with Henrik, her frozen feet stumbling along the ground to where at times Henry had to help her when she clutched on to him to keep from face planting. She apologized over and over again through chattering teeth, it becoming some sort of mantra as the continued on. It took a little while before her feet warmed up a little in the socks and boots he had brought her, though the pins and needles that came as the blood circulated was just as bad. Tears pricked her eyes, but she continued onward, Henrik leading her. She never once doubted or questioned if he knew where he was going. More than likely he had a plan and he knew this terrain a lot better than she ever would.
When they reached the banks of the river, she blinked and tried to see. It was so dark, that all she could make out was the white of ice. She looked at Henrik, able to barely make out his face and took a breath. She trusted him wholly, and did not hesitate to take his hand and start climbing/sliding down the embankment towards him, grabbing the front of his jacket when she was close enough. “If I go into that river, you’re going with me,” she said, her words paused by the chatter of the teeth. “How much further do we have to go?” She wanted out of this place, somewhere where she could get warm and maybe take a moment to cry from the adrenaline crash she knew she would have.
“You’re not going into the river,” Harry promised, pulling her close, then unzipping his jacket and opening it so that she was pressed against the warmth of his chest as he held her close. He was concerned. He hadn’t thought about the fact that she might not be up for a long hike back. “We have to get over the bridge,” he told her. “So… along the bank some, then up and over. After that… I’ll have to see about stealing a car or something. The helicopter won’t come anywhere near this place, so we have to be at least an hour out from Stockholm before I can call him.”
Zara sniffled, her nose feeling like it was running but really it was just freezing cold. She pressed herself against his chest, soaking up any warmth he could give her, wrapping her arms around him beneath the jacket. His answer had her giving an internal sigh; it wasn’t over yet and they had a little further to go before either of them were safe. “I’m okay,” she murmured. “Just cold, and tired. I hadn’t planned on running for my life today so entirely was not dressed for the occasion,” she lifted her head and gave him a smile. “Let’s keep moving, it will help me stay warm, and focused,” she told him. “I’m ready to get back to somewhere warm, have a nice, hot bubble bath, some hot cocoa, warm bed,” she sighed. She didn’t want to move from him, but the longer they stood wrapped in each other arms, the worse it would get for either of them to want to move. Slowly she pulled back and then started to zip his jacket back up.
“You’ll have all of those, I promise,” Henrik told her as he eased back and made sure that the jacket he’d given her was properly done up, that she was as warm as possible. He twined his fingers in hers, holding on tightly. “So, we need to stay low. Out of sight of the road where we can. We have about three hundred yards to go on the bank, then we can drop down to a riverside path. I didn’t see any sign that it’s been used recently, so we should be good there and the going’s better. That’s gonna take us within sight of the bridge then. Okay?” He didn’t give her any further detail, knowing that getting across the bridge was going to be the hard part. He’d feed her the bad news in small chunks.
Accepting his hand, she squeezed his fingers and gave a nod of her head. “Yes,” she nodded again. “I can do this…we can do this.” It was going to be rough, she knew it, but this was better than hiding in a tree and being found by those that had wanted to bring her harm. “Three hundred yards isn’t so bad,” she said and took a breath. “Lead the way, I’ll be right here with you. The sooner we are out of here, the sooner we get to someplace warm.”
It was a scramble in the dark. One hand holding hers, the other on the upper slope of the bank to steady himself as he picked their way through the darkness, testing each step whilst trying to move as fast as possible. Henrik breathed a sigh of relief when they made it unscathed to the path. It was a couple of feet wide and made of compacted gravel. He supposed that in summer it made a nice walk, possibly a place where smaller boats could pull up. Now, in the middle of winter, it was deserted, which suited Harry just fine. He picked up the pace, just shy of a jog, trusting that Zara would let him know if she needed to slow down.
Zara moved as quickly as she could. Her feet had warmed up some and the pins and needles were slightly better, but she knew they wouldn’t warm up any more than they were. She needed out of the freezing cold. She slipped a couple of times, hitting her knee really good once and was sure she’d cut it open just a little, but she didn’t complain and she didn’t try to slow Henrik down. She’d take care of all her wounds the moment she was somewhere safe and warm. She just hoped that getting somewhere safe and warm would happen sooner rather than later. She was so tired, so, so tired and she was sure that Henrik was as well. She wanted to ask if they were almost there, but knew it was pointless. So, instead, she gripped his hand and sped up her pace to keep up with him.
Henrik slowed down to a walk as the bridge came into sight. It was a wide road bridge, brightly lit in the darkness, arching up and over the inky blackness of the river. He stopped at a bench settled into an alcove at the side of the path and encouraged her to sit for a few minutes. “How you doing?”
Zara was happy for the break. She basically fell down onto the bench and placed her hands on her needs and let her head hang as she caught her breath. “I’m okay,” she said after a moment. She’d be okay. “How much further now? Give me a goal,” she looked up at him. She needed to know what the next step was, to set her mind on something or she didn’t think she’d make it.
“You’re not gonna like it,” Henrik warned her, when she asked how far it was. He sat close to her, an arm round her shoulders to ensure she kept as warm as possible. “It’s twenty miles to the southern coast. That’s our worst case scenario if I can’t get them to pick us up sooner. That’s where they dropped me, since they didn’t know what was happening in the country and they weren’t willing to take risks. I had a car that I jacked. I had to abandon it five miles from here for the same reason. I came the rest of the way on foot. As soon as we’re across the bridge, I’m going to be looking for transportation for us, but I can’t make any guarantees. But I will try, as soon as I can get you off your feet and somewhere warm and get you away from here, I will,” he promised.
“What part of this is there to like?” Zara retorted back, leaning into him and closing her eyes. Just for a moment she could rest. Just for a moment. Twenty miles seemed like so far and she couldn’t hide her despair over it. Hearing how far he’d come to get here, most of it on foot, had her feeling guilty in how exhausted she felt. He had come so far to save her and here she was complaining about being cold and tired. “Okay, so...we get across the bridge and find a car?” She asked, if they found a car then twenty miles wouldn’t be so bad, and there were heaters in cars, usually. “Henrik…” she lifted her head from his shoulder and offered a smile. “I’m sorry that you’ve had to do all of this, that I’ve put you in this dreadful position. I’m grateful, but I’m sorry, too.”
Harry looked across. He was tired and cold, bruised and he had blood on him that wasn’t his own.
He didn’t regret a thing.
He leaned in and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Don’t be sorry,” he told her, momentarily dropping out of the focused mode he’d been in since she told him she wasn’t on the ship. He took a moment, then made himself refocus. He needed that, or he’d get them both killed. Straightening up, he scanned his eyes over the bridge. It was later now, everything seemed quiet. Hopefully there wouldn’t be much in the way of a guard. “We get over the bridge and find a car,” he confirmed. “Are you good to go?”
Zara took strength from the gentle kiss he bestowed on her and tried to give him a reassuring smile. Taking a deep breath she let it out and gave a nod of her head. “Yeah, I’m good to go.” She wasn’t, not really. Her legs were weak from the cold, her lungs seemed frozen, but she would move and do as needed until her body gave out. She stood to her feet and grasped his hand. “Let’s go,” she said. “We’re almost home.” Almost.