Ties That Break, Ties That Bind

[x-scarletwitch.livejournal.com]

Wanda nears the end of her trip in Europe and stops to visit her mother. While she's there, Magda gets another, more unexpected visitor, and for the first time the daughter meets the father face to face. (Much thanks to Alan for socking for this!)



The clearing was just as Wanda remembered it, just slightly more overgrown than the last time. A stream trickled near by but she avoided it and shuddered from the memory of the other weekend. She'd been with the caravan for a few days and they'd fussed over her appearance, how thin she was (she laughed at that) and how tired she looked (but not at that one). It had helped but only time would heal certain things.

At the other end of the clearing was a small grave stone and she smiled a little as she neared it. "~Hello, mom,~" she whispered, kneeling in the dirt and slight snow.

Wanda hadn't brought flowers with her, they simply would have died with no one to care for them and she didn't like the idea of dead flowers on Magda's grave. Instead, she dug a little bit in the ground next to her and after a while poured in some seeds. They would grow well in this environment, once spring came, and that was not very far off.

"~I've missed you, especially right now.~"

A light footfall behind her was the only indication of the arrival of an older man, distinguished-looking in a dark hat and long coat. He looked down at the grave--or perhaps at Wanda--with a faintly regretful expression.

"You chose an excellent spot for her," he said finally, his voice quiet and carefully modulated. "She would have loved this place."

It took a great deal for Wanda not to spin around so fast that she fell over and even then, it was a close call. Shaky enough from her weeks of travel and the fight with Chthon this was nearly the straw to broke to break the camels back.

She clenched a fist in her pocket and stared at the grave, for the first time feeling the ache where her powers were lying dormant. "Pietro told you," she said and it was not a question. "Did you come to see her, this being a...interesting...happenstance or did you know I was coming here?"

"It can't be both?" Magneto shook his head, his tone lightly reproving. "I've been meaning to visit since Pietro gave me the news, of course--but if you really believe I wouldn't keep a careful watch on you, my dear, you're far more naive than I'd given you credit for. It's a dangerous world, these days, for our kind."

Snorting, Wanda gave him a baleful look. If things had been different, if he had been different, they might have had a chance at a normal life. Once. But Magda's death had stripped that away. "It is impossible not to notice," she replied, praying that he didn't know about her powerless state. And the knives on the motorcycle would do her no good. "Did you just come to pay your respects..." The anger in her tone was hard to suppress. "Or is there something you want?"

"Whatever you may think," he replied mildly, "I did love your mother. Our time together spanned some of the happiest days of my life, and I do truly mourn her death. As for what I want . . ." He sighed. "I am not a young man, Wanda. Is it so wrong for me to hope that I can spend some significant portion of my remaining time with my family reunited?"

At that, she turned on her heel to stare at him, hands clenching uselessly at her side. The anger was overriding the sheer terror at being with this madman. Currently, he wasn't Magneto the mutant terrorist who had tried to wipe out humankind. He was only an absent father, though one who had a hand in her mother's death.

This had nothing to do with mutant kind. This was personal. "Do you know how she died?" Wanda asked, voice quiet and stilled. "She was already dieing, maybe had a few weeks left. This 'great headache' caused an aneurism and it robbed me of the time that I had left with her." A lengthy pause filled the space between them. "Did you think of that when it happened? Did you think of her at all?"

Magneto shook his head wearily. "There is no answer to that question that would satisfy you, and I think you know it as well as I do. Which monster would you prefer me to be, Wanda? The one who extinguished your mother's life without a thought, or the one who considered the alternatives and consequences, and then chose her death with open eyes? I will say--though I'm sure you won't believe me--that Magda's death, of all the repercussions of that ill-considered plan, is the one I regret the most."

Wanda shifted uncomfortably. She almost could believe that and part of her, the part that still wanted desperately to have a father, wanted desperately to buy into that. But Magneto was good at lying, perhaps even to himself, and so she kept her reaction away from that.

Instead, she studied him for a few seconds, not sure when she'd get the chance again. This first meeting was unexpected and, damn him, despite how much she looked like her mother--a near spitting image--she could see herself in him and that scared her. "I honestly do not know if she would have wanted you here. Either to see her like this or, well, just because she was stubborn and had never gotten over the past." It was honest and blunt but then so was she.

"She was always stubborn, and I loved her for it, even when we fought." His smile, as he looked back at Wanda, held real warmth, and a question. "And perhaps she is not the only one never to have gotten over the past? I have never meant you harm, my daughter."

The scary thing about Magneto was that underneath all the crazy, somewhere Erik might just be alive. She swallowed. "No, you promised me that years ago," she admitted roughly. The only phone conversation she'd had with him. "But active recruitment and harming are two separate things, aren't they?" He'd spoken of no harm and that she had no fear from his people but he had made it clear back then that, one day, he'd want her by his side. She'd no doubt that it had changed.

"I have always respected your freedom of choice, my dear, and I will continue to do so. All I ask in return is that you consider my position with an open mind." His eyes hardened. "Humanity will never accept us; this coexistence Charles preaches is a castle built on sand. Can you blame me for doing everything I can to shelter my children from the rubble, when it crumbles?"

"Maybe it is simply a castle built on sand but I prefer to sand bag than go the route you go. I keep as open a mind as possible, father, without crossing a line I drew in that same sand myself all those years ago. If you want my opinion, I don't think either view point will last in the end. I simply prefer this one for now." Not that she would ever prefer his way, not after what he did to Lorna, or Forge or the countless others who had gotten in his path. Wanda glanced back at her mother's grave and frowned. "I don't think she ever got over the fact that Pietro and I are mutants but she loved us just the same. And I think that's the reason I walk the path I do."

"We both wanted the very best for the two of you, each in our own way," Magneto replied, following her glance. "Very well; this impasse must continue to suffice." He smiled faintly. "I do hope, however, that you will forgive me if I likewise continue to give you every opportunity to change your mind."

Wanda shot him a wry, exhausted look, the events of the last few weeks catching up to her. She must have looked exhausted but, really, she didn't much care. There was still fear there but if he was going to have done something, it would have already happened by now. "I doubt I'll be able to change your mind on that. Stubbornness didn't just run on my mother's side of the family."

"That it does not. Now, I'm afraid business calls me elsewhere, but--" He gave Wanda a quick, raking once-over that changed quickly into a look of concern. "You should get more sleep, my dear. Perhaps I should have a word with Charles about how hard he works his people." He turned to leave, but tossed one last smile over his shoulder. "Now that's one tactic I haven't tried yet. Perhaps when next we meet I'll offer you some sort of benefits pamphlet."

Out of everything Wanda had been expecting to him to say, besides showing concern over her appearance, was the last one. Choking back a sudden bark of laughter hurt and by the time she managed to get it under control, he was gone.

Letting out a lungful of air, she found herself sinking to her knees in front of Magda's grave, limbs shaking. The hatred and fear were still there but they had been tempered, despite her best efforts, but they still took a toll out of her, especially now.

A hand reached out and caressed the carving on the tombstone. Wanda smile grimly. She'd give it five minutes before she called the mansion to let the Professor know. Not that it would do any good, he would be long gone even if she did it now, but no one expected any less from her.



Hours later, Wanda finally reaches the actual destination--the small house where she and Pietro were born. The Knights have set out to set things right, no matter how much it hurts.



All things considered, Wanda considered it a blessing that Magda's grave had been, ironically enough, only a handful of hours drive from the place she was being pushed too. With how long most of the rest of her trip had taken, this was a drop in the bucket and she reached it before the end of the day.

Taking care to cover the rented motorcycle, Wanda found herself in another clearing but vastely different than the one from this morning.

If she'd thought that the area around her mother's grave was overgrown, it was nothing compared to the growth here. She had to be careful as she approached the only building she'd seen in a day or two though at this point it would offer very little shelter. Small, all brick except for what used to be a roof, it was obvious that no one had been here in a long time.

Maybe, she mused, since the caravan had stumbled upon it.

The call to come here both subsided and grew as Wanda approached and she slowed, hesitant, before the door.

A lot of very strange things had happened to her in a very short amount of time, a good chunk of it mystical and all of it out of her control. There was still a chance to turn around and go home, perhaps even call the mansion for a pick up. But the Professor had made sure that whatever was compelling her to return here wasn't evil and they were both certain that this was important.

Wanda touched the stone doorway--the door had gone the way of the roof a long time ago--and it felt like normal stone. Solid and real.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself through the opening, telling whatever and whoever it was to shut up already she was there...

The air changed and it was no longer the normal evening air of almost-spring but super-charged, much like right before a storm, and it crackled around her.

"Oh shit."

A scream tore it's way from her throat as the world around her exploded, energy rippling up and down her flesh as Wanda struggled...to get out, to go in, to be elsewhere.

We are sorry, this must be done.

Bova, the mystic woman from before, her voice faint and weak but still there as everything went red.

A roaring sound filled her mind as something snapped back into place and, once again, red lines filled her vision. Unused for two weeks, repairing, Wanda's powers filled up the empty spots in her mind as the Knights synched her up to the place where everything started.

It is complete, we have given back what was taken from you and set things as right as they can be. You can never be the way that you were supposed to have been, child, and that is our fault. And so we set things right.

The place, an ancient site bearing the name Wundagore, had been picked so many years ago for it's seclusion from the rest of the world. In all those years that alone had not changed and it served it's purpose for no one heard the muted explosion as the remaining magical power died out and the rotting house exploded from a wild chaotic burst as Wanda passed out.

~~

It was pitch black when Wanda woke up, shivering, amid rubble that had been a house when she was last on her feet. Everything hurt again but, thankfully, not as much as the last time. She'd been made to understand as Bova and what had remained of the Knights faded away--for good this time.

Groaning, she flipped over to her stomach, one hand fumbling in a pocket. Oddly unscathed by what had happened just...she frowned. How long had it been? Long enough.

Wanda pressed the emergancy button on her comms. She'd have some time before the X-Men arrived and she supposed she would have to build a fire.

This, she decided as she forced pained muscles into moving again, had not been a good month.