Stolen Love

Rifiuto: Non Miriena

Summary: She was stolen in broad daylight. Taken from her family and turned captive to a race of purported savages. But as she lives and grows within her new 'family', she discovers that these 'savages' are anything but, and that maybe her captivity is turning into something more along the lines of love. Fiyeraba. Rewritten, 2014.

A/N: Written: 2012. Rewritten: 2014. Found: 2018.

Thousand Year Grasslands,

1856

The heat of the sun radiated down in a never-ending heartbeat upon the wagon trains passing through what was referred to as the Thousand Year Grasslands, bound for the unclaimed territory of Munch- what would one day become known as Munchkinland- to claim land for themselves and build new lives. Chatter filled her head as she sat beside her father on the bench as he drove the horses pulling their wagon behind the other wagons ahead of them. Her mother was walking along side it, holding tight to Nessarose's hand, keeping a close watch on Shell as he dashed ahead to join the other children. Their innocence was unclogged by the dangers lurking all around them.

She heard Glinda Upland's voice ahead; the Uplands and the Thropps had once been neighbors back in Fliaan, and when it was announced that land was up for the taking, their fathers had agreed to cross the grasslands together, and so became apart of the wagon train led by Oatsie Manglehand and her husband Nubb; one of hundreds of wagon trains crossing the grasslands to make a better life and claim land for their own. She and Glinda had become good friends on this trip, and it was nice to have another girl around her age making this journey with her.

At thirteen, she was too old for childish games- the type of games her brother and sister, at eight and ten respectfully, and yet still too young to be considered a lady. She hated being in what she called the in-between time, but she accepted it, for she would turn fourteen in just six short sighed, tossing one of her thick, black braids over her shoulder.

"How much longer, Papa?"

Frexpar chuckled softly as he glanced his oldest daughter. "It's going to take a while, Elia. Munch territory is a long way away. It's going to take us a while to get there, and there's so much land here to cross. We're making good time; it's possibly going to be a few more weeks."

The girl 'hmmphed' in response, crossing her arms over her chest and sitting back. Her father chuckled softly. His beloved oldest child was stubborn, and hated waiting. She had been born impatient, coming a week and a half early, back in August eighteen-forty-three. With her long, thick black hair, her dark eyes and porcelain skin, she was every bit the feisty, wild raven that was the meaning of her name in Fliaanian.

"Patience, Elia. I know you possess at least an ounce of it."

The girl screwed her mouth up and wrinkled her nose. "I am patient."

Her father chuckled.

And then suddenly, the wagons stopped. "Shell! Shell, come back here!" Melena's voice was frantic, and after a moment, the eight-year-old was back by his mother's side.

They heard the shouts before they saw the bodies. It was blur of confusion as what had been called savages by the teamsters soon descended onto the wagons, arrows and spears flying. Horses whinnied and soon reared; wagons were toppled, people ran, seeking shelter in the grasses. Melena quickly shoved her two youngest children under the wagon, before reaching for her oldest daughter. Frexpar climbed off the bench and helped her down, even as her mother rushed to join her two youngest children. Screams of the settlers could be heard, and arrows hit their marks; bodies dropped and children begged for their lives.

Once her feet touched the ground, she rushed to join her siblings as her father moved to grab his shotgun. He cried out, dropping the gun before he could even think to lift the gun; an arrow pierced his shoulder; she turned back at his cry. "Papa!"

Melena's voice was heard under the wagon. "Sophelia, no!"

But she ignored her mother, rushing to her father's aid-

A shadow fell over them as she dropped to her knees by her father's side, and she looked up, finding a man, a savage, standing over them. Something flashed in his eyes, and she threw herself over her father. "No! Leave us alone!"

But he grabbed her, yanking her to her feet and throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of grain, before moving back to one of the horses they had stolen. He threw her over the back of the horse and then climbed up behind her, and in a matter of moments, they- and the rest of what was a war party- were gone, disappearing into the grasslands they had come from.