Fic: ...keep flying... (part two)
Aug. 8th, 2006 01:40 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
matchlightfire.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
firefly_fanficA little backstory on the mysterious desert stranger! Introducing the OC characters;)
*
Title: Keep Flying - Part Two
Author: me!![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
maantre
Word Count: 2062
Rating: PG13ish for some violence.
Characters: Introducing the Caldwells
Spoilers/Timeline: This is post BDM, so if you do not wish to be spoiled please do not read!!
Disclaimer: Not my 'verse, but I like playing in it!
(all parts will be posted here @ my journal, flocked but always welcoming new friends!!)
*
Two
"Hurry up, you good for nothing…" Bernard Caldwell was sweating in exertion, though the morning breeze (what little their town would see) still blew from the east. He was the sort of man who was perpetually sweating, casting a rather repulsive shine to his usually scowling face. The two girls behind him walked quickly, hurrying to obey. The first, tall and willowy blonde, greeted the passing members of their sleepy country town with a gentle smile. It was Sarah’s way, gentle and kindness, and all smiled back at her. She was the rose to the squirming, snarling thorn pushing his way rudely through the crowd. A small wooden trunk gripped in one gloved hand, hair brushed to a shimmer, she glided regally through the crowd with a grace most recalled clearly from her Mama.
Beautiful woman, Anna Bartlett had been, much too beautiful for (the then) Bernie Caldwell…but married him she did, and birthed this glorious girl despite his bitterness. Then, Anna had surprised them all by gracing her husband with yet another daughter – and if two people had ever been less alike, no one could think on another pair than the Caldwell girls.
Charlie (Charles, plain on her birth certificate but it was Charlie since she’d been old enough to speak) was small, just dusting over five feet, with a wild mane of impossibly black hair. No one would ever whisper against their Momma, but it was generally accepted that Charlie didn’t look a whit like her father. Didn’t change the way he treated her and Sarah, ordered them both around something terrible. Treated them more like slaves then kin, the townspeople would whisper in their gossipy circles. But today, he had more pressing matters on his mind.
"Pardon me," Sarah said sweetly to a young man her father had nearly upset in his path. The young postman’s apprentice’s cheeks warmed under her gaze as he stared helplessly after her. Her sister merely rolled her eyes and shifted her large travel case to her other side. He wondered briefly what it could contain before they disappeared in the morning market throng of people, and shrugged it from his mind.
Charlie Caldwell was impossibly tight with tension, and was swinging her travel case out of pure nervousness. It wasn’t like her father to be this generous, to send them on a trip to see their long distant Aunt and cousins. He’d announced it over breakfast, mouth full of eggs and sizzling bacon. Sarah had responded eagerly, desperately happy to meet other members of their family and even hugged her father in gratitude. Charlie had merely stared at him over the table with guarded eyes, gaze steady on his until he’d dropped, feigning a scowl. It didn’t surprise her anymore that her father didn’t care about her (it had never crossed her mind that the man felt love for either of them), but this was new. He had looked…frightened. The closest to ashamed she’d ever seen. It had seared into her then, the panic and foreboding that set the hairs on the back of her neck rising.
"Take this," she had tried to convince her sister, but Sarah had merely laughed.
"Think we’re going to run into space pirates on the journey, Charles?" Charlie tried to frown at the jibe, but was too worried.
"Just take it, Sarah. I don’t like this at all." But Sarah had refused the knife Charlie had tried to press into her hands, laughing her sister’s concern off as unfounded. Helpless to make her sister understand, she’d finally forced her into her old combat boots. "At least wear these!"
"Charlie, these look ridiculous-"
"Just wear them!" Sarah had looked at her sister’s agitated face, and agreed. Anything to take the look of terror out of the dark eyes.
"Alright, Charlie, I’ll wear them. Just calm down." and she had, for the moment, relieved that Sarah would have some level of protection (even if she didn’t realize it).
Charlie was currently trudging with a matching pair of dark brown boots on her feet, less worn in and still marginally void of dust. She was wearing a dress, and walked as if she’d never come into contact with that particular garment before. Despite all of her reservations, despite all of her fear, she still didn’t quite believe that her own flesh and blood would resort to the sort of betrayal whispering in her mind. If not for her sake, at least for Sarah’s. When they got to the center of town, in the middle of the busiest square of the market, that little voice of warning turned into a full fledged shriek.
It froze in her mind, that one moment before anything happened, and everything looked very bright (too bright, like she needed to shield her eyes) in the morning sun - their father leading them along (like sheep to slaughter), Sarah only half a step behind, turning to gesture to her lagging sister to hurry up.
The man had been moving so casually, almost slowly as his path nonchalantly intersected with theirs. Charlie had been cursing the clumsiness of her legs in the billowy fabric of her sister’s cotton dress (wishing she’d just worn her well made pants with all of the secret pockets like she had wanted to) when the man’s hand gripped her sister’s arm just above the elbow. He’d turned then, and she saw his face underneath the purple and black hat, calm and indifferent to the first touch of confused concern and then pain that flickered over Sarah’s brow.
"What-" Sarah managed before Charlie saw the fingers flex brutally and the words in her mouth changed to a bawl of pain. Charlie jerked forward, earning a startled look from her father who had turned to watch, wiping his brow with a grubby handkerchief. She stretched one arm out to her writhing sister, before it all crashed into her with agonizing comprehension. The men, the trip, it hadn’t entirely been a lie. They were going someplace, alright, but all of her worst fears had come true in one single crushing moment.
Escape…her mind whispered urgently, and she whirled on her feet to do just that. She caught the surprised looks on the men that had been closing behind her, wearing matching hats and jackets with patches sewed onto the sleeve. She didn’t think, just moved with the same speed that defied gravity.
The townspeople around them had all fallen silent, realizing sickly what was happening. Wasn’t illegal to sell folks to slavers on this side of the ‘verse, but it wasn’t widely respected. Bernard Caldwell returned their reproachful stares with a furious one of his own, daring them to protest. One by one, their gazes fell to the ground as they turned their backs. Sarah was still screaming, and they all moved again, as if the pretty, well-liked girl they all had known from birth wasn’t being dragged off by scum.
Charlie had darted through the two men before they even noticed her moving, and disappeared through the crowd before they do much more than could blink. If people moved a little here and there to help her through they did so unconsciously. Mothers clutched their children tightly, hearts aching for the still howling girl but unable to do anything. Once a sale was made it was illegal to interfere. The men clenched their fists but were as helpless as poor Sarah.
"Well!" Bernard yelled at the two dumbfounded slavers, gesturing angrily. "Go get her!" The two men shared a glance before looking to their other crewmate.
"Bringing the package was your responsibility. Looks like we only close the deal on this one." He shook her in his grip a little, completely ignoring her whimpers and tears. She tried to twist away but it only resulted in more blinding pressure from the fingers of steel.
"Father!" She screamed out once, ringing in the square, but Bernard didn’t spare her a glance.
"You idiots let her get away!" He snarled but was helpless to do much else. He certainly wasn’t going to run after her, not in this heat. The leader didn’t argue, didn’t change his facial expression an inch as he reached into his jacket and tossed a thick white package to him.
"For the one. Give us a call if you’re ever in the market again." His pale face then cracked into a genial smile and this for some reason frightened Bernard more than any harsh words or threats could have. The thick bundle of money nearly toppled to the ground before his grip tightened desperately. He looked inwardly for a twinge of regret, for shame as he the men rounded together and faded from sight but it just wasn’t there. There were no tears for his daughter, for the mother that hadn’t been able to raise and love them. He clutched his money to his chest and stumbled back towards his farm.
*
Charlie was flying – or at least as close to flight as she’d ever come (as anyone still on world would have come). Her feet were pounding over the gravel as she kept up the blinding speed, unaware if they were following and not chancing a glimpse to see if they were. Tears leaked from her eyes but were dashed from her face by the harsh desert wind. She was still hearing Sarah’s screams but they weren’t what was driving her. She had a moment of clarity as she realized she’d dropped her case and this almost made her stop and turn to retrieve it...but her feet ignored the inclination (as brief as it had been) and kept up their brutal pace, kept moving. keep moving, keep flying chanted in her mind and it filled her completely.
She couldn’t stop, she couldn’t turn – not even for the sister that had braided her hair neatly every night for the past ten years. Who’d sewed buttons and patches into her endlessly torn clothing, who’d taught her to hold a needle and thread when she got tired of her little sister’s wear and tear. The one person she’d come to trust and love completely in her whole life, who had never given up.
She ran, blinded, but unstopping. It broke her heart, to put each foot in front of the other, to ignore the stabbing pain in her side and her toes in the still uncomfortable boots. It broke the resolve she’d made herself when she was just a girl to never let another thing her father said or did make her cry. The tears fell freely now even if the wind claimed them before they could run down her cheeks.
Some would think her an uncaring coward for each meter she put between her and her sister without a pause. Some would think her selfish for almost stopping for a simple travel case but not for the person she loved most above all others. No one but Charlie would understand, could have seen. It wasn’t the betrayal that caused the dam of her sorrow to break and finally pour forth with sobs. It wasn’t even the distance she kept gaining.
It was her sister’s face, calm and serene despite her raw, agonizing screams. That face still so full of love for her little sister, screaming loudly to take the attention from Charlie - to give her the moment to move from her trance.
The mouth that had formed only the one word again and again.
"Go!" She’d been screaming.
And Charlie went.
*
She’d been running for hours it seemed, but she kept pressing onward. She ran until she vomited, painfully, flung everything up until she was dry heaving and clutching a now emptied stomach. Couldn’t go back to her home, couldn’t trust that the slavers weren’t looking for her in town. She was panicked and honestly didn’t know where to turn. She decided to run east into the wind, and she would run out into the desert until she simply couldn’t run anymore. If she met her death on this unforgiving land at least she would know that she’d tried. She’d escaped, she’d flown.
Starting up again at a slower but steady jog, she steeled herself against all pain and exhaustion...content to run to the ends of the world. She’d run until her legs gave up.
Her soul never would.
*
Title: Keep Flying - Part Two
Author: me!
maantreWord Count: 2062
Rating: PG13ish for some violence.
Characters: Introducing the Caldwells
Spoilers/Timeline: This is post BDM, so if you do not wish to be spoiled please do not read!!
Disclaimer: Not my 'verse, but I like playing in it!
(all parts will be posted here @ my journal, flocked but always welcoming new friends!!)
*
Two
"Hurry up, you good for nothing…" Bernard Caldwell was sweating in exertion, though the morning breeze (what little their town would see) still blew from the east. He was the sort of man who was perpetually sweating, casting a rather repulsive shine to his usually scowling face. The two girls behind him walked quickly, hurrying to obey. The first, tall and willowy blonde, greeted the passing members of their sleepy country town with a gentle smile. It was Sarah’s way, gentle and kindness, and all smiled back at her. She was the rose to the squirming, snarling thorn pushing his way rudely through the crowd. A small wooden trunk gripped in one gloved hand, hair brushed to a shimmer, she glided regally through the crowd with a grace most recalled clearly from her Mama.
Beautiful woman, Anna Bartlett had been, much too beautiful for (the then) Bernie Caldwell…but married him she did, and birthed this glorious girl despite his bitterness. Then, Anna had surprised them all by gracing her husband with yet another daughter – and if two people had ever been less alike, no one could think on another pair than the Caldwell girls.
Charlie (Charles, plain on her birth certificate but it was Charlie since she’d been old enough to speak) was small, just dusting over five feet, with a wild mane of impossibly black hair. No one would ever whisper against their Momma, but it was generally accepted that Charlie didn’t look a whit like her father. Didn’t change the way he treated her and Sarah, ordered them both around something terrible. Treated them more like slaves then kin, the townspeople would whisper in their gossipy circles. But today, he had more pressing matters on his mind.
"Pardon me," Sarah said sweetly to a young man her father had nearly upset in his path. The young postman’s apprentice’s cheeks warmed under her gaze as he stared helplessly after her. Her sister merely rolled her eyes and shifted her large travel case to her other side. He wondered briefly what it could contain before they disappeared in the morning market throng of people, and shrugged it from his mind.
Charlie Caldwell was impossibly tight with tension, and was swinging her travel case out of pure nervousness. It wasn’t like her father to be this generous, to send them on a trip to see their long distant Aunt and cousins. He’d announced it over breakfast, mouth full of eggs and sizzling bacon. Sarah had responded eagerly, desperately happy to meet other members of their family and even hugged her father in gratitude. Charlie had merely stared at him over the table with guarded eyes, gaze steady on his until he’d dropped, feigning a scowl. It didn’t surprise her anymore that her father didn’t care about her (it had never crossed her mind that the man felt love for either of them), but this was new. He had looked…frightened. The closest to ashamed she’d ever seen. It had seared into her then, the panic and foreboding that set the hairs on the back of her neck rising.
"Take this," she had tried to convince her sister, but Sarah had merely laughed.
"Think we’re going to run into space pirates on the journey, Charles?" Charlie tried to frown at the jibe, but was too worried.
"Just take it, Sarah. I don’t like this at all." But Sarah had refused the knife Charlie had tried to press into her hands, laughing her sister’s concern off as unfounded. Helpless to make her sister understand, she’d finally forced her into her old combat boots. "At least wear these!"
"Charlie, these look ridiculous-"
"Just wear them!" Sarah had looked at her sister’s agitated face, and agreed. Anything to take the look of terror out of the dark eyes.
"Alright, Charlie, I’ll wear them. Just calm down." and she had, for the moment, relieved that Sarah would have some level of protection (even if she didn’t realize it).
Charlie was currently trudging with a matching pair of dark brown boots on her feet, less worn in and still marginally void of dust. She was wearing a dress, and walked as if she’d never come into contact with that particular garment before. Despite all of her reservations, despite all of her fear, she still didn’t quite believe that her own flesh and blood would resort to the sort of betrayal whispering in her mind. If not for her sake, at least for Sarah’s. When they got to the center of town, in the middle of the busiest square of the market, that little voice of warning turned into a full fledged shriek.
It froze in her mind, that one moment before anything happened, and everything looked very bright (too bright, like she needed to shield her eyes) in the morning sun - their father leading them along (like sheep to slaughter), Sarah only half a step behind, turning to gesture to her lagging sister to hurry up.
The man had been moving so casually, almost slowly as his path nonchalantly intersected with theirs. Charlie had been cursing the clumsiness of her legs in the billowy fabric of her sister’s cotton dress (wishing she’d just worn her well made pants with all of the secret pockets like she had wanted to) when the man’s hand gripped her sister’s arm just above the elbow. He’d turned then, and she saw his face underneath the purple and black hat, calm and indifferent to the first touch of confused concern and then pain that flickered over Sarah’s brow.
"What-" Sarah managed before Charlie saw the fingers flex brutally and the words in her mouth changed to a bawl of pain. Charlie jerked forward, earning a startled look from her father who had turned to watch, wiping his brow with a grubby handkerchief. She stretched one arm out to her writhing sister, before it all crashed into her with agonizing comprehension. The men, the trip, it hadn’t entirely been a lie. They were going someplace, alright, but all of her worst fears had come true in one single crushing moment.
Escape…her mind whispered urgently, and she whirled on her feet to do just that. She caught the surprised looks on the men that had been closing behind her, wearing matching hats and jackets with patches sewed onto the sleeve. She didn’t think, just moved with the same speed that defied gravity.
The townspeople around them had all fallen silent, realizing sickly what was happening. Wasn’t illegal to sell folks to slavers on this side of the ‘verse, but it wasn’t widely respected. Bernard Caldwell returned their reproachful stares with a furious one of his own, daring them to protest. One by one, their gazes fell to the ground as they turned their backs. Sarah was still screaming, and they all moved again, as if the pretty, well-liked girl they all had known from birth wasn’t being dragged off by scum.
Charlie had darted through the two men before they even noticed her moving, and disappeared through the crowd before they do much more than could blink. If people moved a little here and there to help her through they did so unconsciously. Mothers clutched their children tightly, hearts aching for the still howling girl but unable to do anything. Once a sale was made it was illegal to interfere. The men clenched their fists but were as helpless as poor Sarah.
"Well!" Bernard yelled at the two dumbfounded slavers, gesturing angrily. "Go get her!" The two men shared a glance before looking to their other crewmate.
"Bringing the package was your responsibility. Looks like we only close the deal on this one." He shook her in his grip a little, completely ignoring her whimpers and tears. She tried to twist away but it only resulted in more blinding pressure from the fingers of steel.
"Father!" She screamed out once, ringing in the square, but Bernard didn’t spare her a glance.
"You idiots let her get away!" He snarled but was helpless to do much else. He certainly wasn’t going to run after her, not in this heat. The leader didn’t argue, didn’t change his facial expression an inch as he reached into his jacket and tossed a thick white package to him.
"For the one. Give us a call if you’re ever in the market again." His pale face then cracked into a genial smile and this for some reason frightened Bernard more than any harsh words or threats could have. The thick bundle of money nearly toppled to the ground before his grip tightened desperately. He looked inwardly for a twinge of regret, for shame as he the men rounded together and faded from sight but it just wasn’t there. There were no tears for his daughter, for the mother that hadn’t been able to raise and love them. He clutched his money to his chest and stumbled back towards his farm.
*
Charlie was flying – or at least as close to flight as she’d ever come (as anyone still on world would have come). Her feet were pounding over the gravel as she kept up the blinding speed, unaware if they were following and not chancing a glimpse to see if they were. Tears leaked from her eyes but were dashed from her face by the harsh desert wind. She was still hearing Sarah’s screams but they weren’t what was driving her. She had a moment of clarity as she realized she’d dropped her case and this almost made her stop and turn to retrieve it...but her feet ignored the inclination (as brief as it had been) and kept up their brutal pace, kept moving. keep moving, keep flying chanted in her mind and it filled her completely.
She couldn’t stop, she couldn’t turn – not even for the sister that had braided her hair neatly every night for the past ten years. Who’d sewed buttons and patches into her endlessly torn clothing, who’d taught her to hold a needle and thread when she got tired of her little sister’s wear and tear. The one person she’d come to trust and love completely in her whole life, who had never given up.
She ran, blinded, but unstopping. It broke her heart, to put each foot in front of the other, to ignore the stabbing pain in her side and her toes in the still uncomfortable boots. It broke the resolve she’d made herself when she was just a girl to never let another thing her father said or did make her cry. The tears fell freely now even if the wind claimed them before they could run down her cheeks.
Some would think her an uncaring coward for each meter she put between her and her sister without a pause. Some would think her selfish for almost stopping for a simple travel case but not for the person she loved most above all others. No one but Charlie would understand, could have seen. It wasn’t the betrayal that caused the dam of her sorrow to break and finally pour forth with sobs. It wasn’t even the distance she kept gaining.
It was her sister’s face, calm and serene despite her raw, agonizing screams. That face still so full of love for her little sister, screaming loudly to take the attention from Charlie - to give her the moment to move from her trance.
The mouth that had formed only the one word again and again.
"Go!" She’d been screaming.
And Charlie went.
*
She’d been running for hours it seemed, but she kept pressing onward. She ran until she vomited, painfully, flung everything up until she was dry heaving and clutching a now emptied stomach. Couldn’t go back to her home, couldn’t trust that the slavers weren’t looking for her in town. She was panicked and honestly didn’t know where to turn. She decided to run east into the wind, and she would run out into the desert until she simply couldn’t run anymore. If she met her death on this unforgiving land at least she would know that she’d tried. She’d escaped, she’d flown.
Starting up again at a slower but steady jog, she steeled herself against all pain and exhaustion...content to run to the ends of the world. She’d run until her legs gave up.
Her soul never would.