Rebel Yell (A Mutant Sue Civil War AU)
Jun. 2nd, 2011 10:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladydeathfaerie posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
marysuevirusTitle: Rebel Yell (A Mutant Sue Civil War AU)
Chapter One: Expectations
Fandom: something like the Marvel Universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: lots of violence (its set during the Civil War. duh!) and bloodshed. some language. sex. possible Southern drawl usage.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the Sues are the sole property of their originators,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ginevra , dazzledfirestar , nanaea , sessys_fangirl and ladydeathfaerie . the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.
Author's Notes: i totally and completely blamemistress_o_muse for this one! its all her damn fault!
Rebel Yell (A Mutant Sue Virus Civil War AU) - The Index
"The sun is oppressively warm today, isn't it?" Abigail asked as she snapped her fan open and used it to cool her face.
Dolly tittered a laugh and sipped at her lemonade. Beads of condensation slid down the sides of the glass, attesting to its cool temperature. "Abigail, its summer. You know its always oppressively warm here in the summer. Can't you stop complaining and let Haley tell us why she asked us to lunch today?"
Haley smiled at her friends, watching as Dolly leaned forward and scooped up another of the finger sandwiches. The girl hadn't said anything yet, but it was obvious to Haley that Dolly was with child. There was a barely noticeable thickening to her waist that suggested her wedding just a month ago to the younger Alan Platte had been more out of necessity than love. She found that curious and almost laughable. Friend though she was, Dolly wasn't the brightest girl Haley had ever met. Which probably explained how she'd ended up in the condition she was in.
"Yes, Haley. Do tell us your news." This came from Petunia. She was settled comfortably in her chair, not a single midnight strand out of place despite the heat. There was a hint of a smile on the woman's face that suggested she knew what Haley was going to tell them.
"Do you remember that Christmas party Harper and I attended right before the start of the war?" she asked them, her hand resting against the hidden pocket in her skirt. She could feel the hard press of the ring against her palm, offering her courage.
"You and Harper attended a Christmas party thrown by the Guthries. I remember that. Y'all were gone for nearly a month," Abigail nodded. She sipped at her lemonade.
"That's the one," Haley nodded. One hand flicked open her fan so that she could cool herself while her other hand slipped into that hidden pocket. With practiced ease, she nudged the ring onto her finger, then used her thumb to push it all the way up. "It was an amazing party. I can't recall ever seeing a house so festive before."
"Word has it that the Guthries always go all out for Christmas." Dolly picked up another sandwich. Haley nodded at her. "I was told that they had a tree so tall that no one could see the top."
"And you believed that, Dolly?" Petunia shook her head.
"Well, I'm sure I've never been to one of the Guthries' affairs. I'm only telling you what I was told," Dolly insisted. Then the woman turned to look at Haley. "Was it? Was their tree so tall, you couldn't see the top?"
"It was a tall tree, but not that tall." Haley offered Dolly a smile to cushion the blow. Dolly frowned, but soon found solace in her sandwich. She allowed her mind to stretch back over the past three years. She could see that night in her mind's eye as if it had happened only yesterday. "The tree stretched a good fifteen feet into the air and it glittered with all manner of glass ornaments. Candles twinkled brightly among the green of the needles."
"Relax, Haley. You're the best looking woman here." Harper told her, leaning in toward her as he escorted her into the large ballroom the Guthrie family was holding their Christmas bash in. The room was fragrant with the smell of freshly cut evergreen boughs. They ran all around the room, midway up the high walls and their long, leaded glass windows. Stands of candles were positioned all around the room, adding to the light spilled by the candles in the chandeliers overhead.
A giant tree, easily over fifteen feet tall, took up one whole corner of the room. It was decked out with strands of red and gold ribbons. The ornaments, made of gold and silver glass, glittered among the green pine needles. Short candles illuminated the tree so that everyone could see just how beautiful it was. A gold gilt star at the top. Gaily wrapped presents were nestled under the lowest boughs of the tree, awaiting the time when their recipients would be allowed to open them.
A small orchestra had the other corner, playing out waltzes and livelier other dances for the party goers. Men were dressed in their finest suits. Long, velvety black coats and pants were made bright and gay by silk waist coats in a rainbow of jeweled colors. The women were just as vibrant in silks and satins, their dresses trailing behind them as they moved and flowed. Most of them wore festive holiday colors. Red and green and gold.
Haley had gone against what she knew the other women were going to wear, choosing to shun the traditional holiday hues in favor of something that was more suited to her personality. The gown was of silk, with a bodice that clung to her body while the skirt flared and flowed out around and behind her. What made it so amazing was that the silk used to weave the material the gown had been crafted from shifted colors in the light. At one moment, it looked silver and at the next, it appeared a blue-ish silver color. All of the accent work on it was done in silver, right down to the small amount of lace that had been used to give it that feminine touch.
The gown had cost Harper a pretty penny. Haley had insisted that he hadn't needed to purchase it for her, that she had something in her wardrobe that would suffice for the Christmas ball. But he'd insisted. And now, after seeing everyone else in their finery, she was secretly glad she hadn't fought him harder on it. Every eye in the room turned her way. She could see a touch of admiration in the men's gazes and a hint of jealousy in the women's. Turning a glance toward Harper, she offered her brother a smile. "You say the loveliest things, brother dear. But I'm afraid that the other ladies here are most displeased."
"You let me worry about the other ladies here. You just have yourself a good time," he replied.
She didn't have time to respond to him. Almost as soon as she entered the ball room, a finely dressed young man she'd never met before asked if she would honor him with a dance. Harper nudged her into the eager embrace of her would-be suitor and laughed when she shot him a foul look. But the young man quickly took hold of her attention as he launched into a tale about the time a raccoon had to be chased from his mother's pantry.
Haley found herself swung from one pair of arms to the next until it seemed as if she had danced with every man there. Twice. She was hot and tired, and she found herself longing for a cup of chilled lemonade and a chair in a hidden corner where she could rest herself. But before she could slip away from everyone and seek solace, she was caught up in the arms of her brother, who smiled down at her knowingly, and swung her into the lively waltz that was playing.
She knew him well enough to understand that he had some manner of surprise planned for her. She also knew that Harper would keep his surprise to himself until he was truly ready to let her know what was going on. So she smiled at him, as she was expected to, and plotted ways to get back at him when they finally returned to their own plantation after the new year. Perhaps she could even get her maid Lulu in on it with her.
The waltz was at an end and she wanted nothing more than to rest her feet. She was tired and warm, small droplets of moisture clinging to her hairline and gathering over her upper lip. Perhaps she could excuse herself and seek the solace of the room she'd been given. But it wasn't to be because just as she was pulling from her brother's hold, she felt another hand on her arm and she was being spun to face yet another suitor.
"Good evening, Miss Haley. You look particularly lovely tonight." Blue eyes stared down into her face, twinkling with mischief. There was a slight smile tilting the corners of his lips up and he'd taken extra care with his blonde hair. Golden hued locks that were normally unruly and defied all attempts with a comb had been tamed and slicked down. His suit was as black as night and his waist coat was silver. Something told her that he'd taken great care with his clothing and appearance.
Curious. Just what did he have planned?
She smiled at him and felt a faint blush stain her cheeks. "Why thank you, kind sir. Its so nice of you to say."
"Dance with me?" he asked. There was a twinkle in his eyes that suggested he had other things in mind. The blush darkened and she nodded her head. Even before she'd finished nodding, he swept her into his arms and out onto the floor.
He was all grace and fluid motion as he pulled her into the dance. They said nothing, simply whirled and twirled around the floor. They were so caught up in one another that they barely missed colliding with other couples. Laughter bubbled up on occasion to drown out the music, but it always faded into the background so that the orchestra could be heard. At the conclusion of the song, they came to a halt near the giant tree.
Silence fell as he lifted his arms and drew the eyes of every party goer their way. Haley felt her blush darken and wondered at his need to draw attention to them both. The air was filled with expectation as he waited to be sure that everyone was listening. "We all know that this is a special time of year, when families get together and celebrate their blessings and the joy of the season. Just let me say that my family is pleased to share our bounty with all of your families."
A chorus of "Here, here!" rolled around the room.
"My mother asked me this year what it was I wanted for Christmas. A new horse? A box of the finest cigars? The latest fashions straight from Paris? Now, y'all know I'm a simple man with simple tastes. So I looked my dear mother in the eye and said 'Momma, I don't want any of those things. They're all nice but I have my heart set on something else. Something much finer and much better than any of those things.' And y'all know my Momma. She just stared at me, wondering what I could want that was better than a horse."
He paused as laughter rippled up from the gathered throng, turning toward the tree behind him. Haley watched as he reached for a small, squarish shaped box wrapped in a piece of lush blue velvet and tied with a silver bow. Facing the crowd again, he made a show of dropping to one knee while offering the box up to her. A collective sigh filled the air even as a few hands began clapping in approval. "I offered my Momma a smile, then reached out and took her hand. As I ran my thumb over the ring that my Daddy put one her hand, I told her, 'Momma, I want what you and Daddy had. I want a love that shines brighter than the stars in the heavens. I want your blessing to take a wife.' And Momma just smiled and nodded her head. Y'all know she didn't want me to see her cry."
Again, laughter was the response.
"I got my Momma's blessing. So tonight, in front of all our friends and family, I want to ask Miss Haley Stone if she'll consent to be my blushing bride." She watched his hands pull the ribbon. It fell away from the box, followed by the blue velvet, to reveal a black jeweler's box beneath. Like the wrapping, it was velvet. He offered the box up to her with a hopeful smile. One finger pulled the top of the box back to reveal the ring inside. Haley felt her heart sputter to a stop in her chest.
The band was gold and shone brightly in the warm, mellow flames of the candles. There was a single diamond set up from the band, round cut and faceted so that it caught the light and shot it back at her in tiny rainbows. She watched as he took the ring from the box and held it between fingers that shook ever so slightly. "Haley, darling. Will you marry me?"
Her mind spun, endless thoughts spooling out like thin life lines in every direction. He was such a dear friend that it had been a joke between their families for a long time that they should just get married and be done with it. But that was part of the problem. He was just a dear friend. She loved him like a brother. Not the way she thought she should love a husband. She wanted the all consuming love that her parents had had. And some instinct inside of her told her that she'd know that love when she finally found it. This love wasn't it.
Sadly, society said that she couldn't pick a man she loved. Not when her family had made a match for her, which Harper obviously had. That explained why he'd insisted on the gown. No doubt she'd be wearing it at her wedding, too. Which meant that she had to give the answer she didn't want to give. Not to him, anyway. He wasn't the love of her life. But she knew what Harper would say when she cornered him about this at home. He'd say that this marriage was a good match and that Haley could have done worse. And he'd be right.
She knew, standing there with the entire party staring at them both, that she needed to say yes. It would be the right thing to do. It would keep them all from looking like fools. It would be safe and for the best. And it would be the hardest thing she ever had to do.
Bringing a smile to her face, one she hoped looked sincere, Haley gave a quick nod of her head, setting her curls to bouncing, and held out her left hand. "Yes, Sam. Of course I'll marry you."
He slid the ring up her finger, settling it into place above the joint. Then he rose and pulled her close for a kiss on the lips that was sweet and chaste and utterly lacking in the spark of fire that her mother had assured her would be there with the man she loved. The crowd roared their enthusiasm as she and Sam turned to face everyone. The smile fixed to her face, she turned and faced Sam's party guests. Harper was smiling, clapping along with everyone else. But she could see by the look in his eyes that he knew there would be hell to pay for doing things this way.
There was a bright flash and a puff of smoke, letting her know that the moment had been preserved for posterity. Music filled the room and Sam swept her into a lively dance, the lingering chemical smell of the camera flash that filled her nostrils some odd kind of evil omen of an ill wind that would soon blow her way.
There had been a huge argument with Harper as soon as they'd gotten home. Naturally, he'd won. But she'd let him know that she'd been less than happy with his underhanded methods. And after, when she'd had her say and was still stewing in anger, she'd plotted with Lulu just how to get Harper back. He'd gone insane looking for his best hunting rifle for the better part of three weeks.
She and Sam were supposed to have been married the following spring. But that ill will had blown and brought with it the grumblings of bitter politicians who felt that the federal government was doing its very best to trample their every right and freedom. Apparently, there had been talk of freeing the slaves in the South. And there wasn't a plantation owner who wouldn't fight such a thing to the bitter end. Which was what it had eventually come down to. Southern states had started seceding to form the Confederate States of America and, in April of 1861, the first shots of war had sounded in South Carolina, at Fort Sumter.
Sam had paid Haley a visit and he'd told her that he was signing up to fight the Yankees. And that they'd marry when he came home again. It had been difficult news, but she'd kept a brave face. Shortly after that, Harper had shattered that brave face when he'd told Haley that he was joining up, too. She'd had some letters since then, but she'd seen neither brother or betrothed since. It had been three long years since the war had started and there seemed to be no end in sight.
Haley shook off the unpleasant memories and drew her hand from her pocket, then held it over the table for her friends to see. As one, the three of them burst into laughter and squeals of excitement. Each took their turns admiring the ring she wore and asking non-stop questions that she wasn't going to answer time and again. Better she get them to settle down so that she could tell them everything once. At once.
"Oh, Haley! That ring is absolutely divine! How on earth could you keep this from us all this time?" Petunia asked, once more eyeing the ring Sam had slipped on her finger that Christmas almost four years ago.
"We were supposed to marry the spring following that party. But then this dreadful war happened and Sam felt it was his duty to go fight. So everything has been on hold since then. I keep hoping that the fighting will stop soon and they can come home." She missed them. Both of them.
"I'm sure our boys will have this silly old war put to an end soon enough," Abigail insisted, though there was more desperation than belief in her voice. She had brothers and a beau off fighting for the Confederacy. She'd already lost her father to the North's bullets. Haley didn't have the heart to mention that the last reports in the papers hadn't looked good.
"I thank God every day that my Alan didn't have to go off and fight," Dolly said as she scooped up the last of the finger sandwiches. Haley made a mental note to keep the food away from Dolly the next time the woman visited.
"Your Alan doesn't have enough sense to know the butt of the gun from the business end," Petunia said tartly. The comment was about to start an argument, but the sound of the door creaking open and closed stopped whatever Dolly wanted to say to Petunia. In only seconds, Lulu stood beside the table with a fresh pitcher of lemonade in her hands
"Can I refresh your drinks, Miss Haley?" Lulu was the same age as Haley. They'd grown up together and the dark skinned woman was more than a slave. She was Haley's friend. A sister that she'd never had.
"Thank you, Lulu. That would be splendid." Haley flashed her a thankful smile. Lulu returned it, then bent over the table and began pouring the tart beverage into her glass.
"I do declare, Haley. It looks as if you've got visitors." Abigail said with a snap of her fan. Haley glanced over Petunia's head to see a cloud of dust rising up in the distance. She knew what it meant. A rider was coming up the drive and he was coming fast. Rising from her seat, she moved to the edge of the porch and lifted a hand to shield her eyes. Lulu joined her only a moment later.
"Want me to fetch Thomas, Miss Haley?" Thomas was Lulu's older brother and Harper had entrusted the care of his sister and his estate to the man when he'd left for the war. If Lulu went and got her brother, he'd show up with a shotgun in hand, ready to defend Haley and the plantation to the death.
"No, Lulu. Thank you. I don't think its anyone threatening. There's only one rider," Haley replied softly. "Why don't you go back inside and allow me to deal with this?"
The black woman gave her a wide eyed stare. Haley knew what was coming even before Lulu opened her mouth. "Master Harper..."
"Isn't here, Lulu. I'll be just fine. I promise. Go on. Shoo." Haley made a motion to the house. Lulu left after shooting Haley a skeptical look. Only a few seconds later, she felt Abigail, Petunia and Dolly join her at the railing.
A lathered horse came pelting into view, the beast's sides heaving as its lungs worked in and out. The animal looked half-wild, as did the young black boy riding it. She recognized the lad as one of the slaves on Sam's family's plantation. Frowning, she searched for the boy's name. Cedric. He worked in the stables. The boy looked fit to be tied as he brought the horse to a quick halt. Throwing himself from the saddle, the boy hurried forward and ducked a bow as he met her on the steps. "Miss Haley?"
"Cedric. What brings you to my home?"
"Miss Paige sent me." The boy reached into his pocket and withdrew a scrap of much abused paper. "She told me I need to come straight here. And that I was to give you this. And then she told me I need to go straight home."
"You'll go home when your mount is rested and you've had some of Cook's pecan pie. Take yourself into the house and find Lulu. She'll take care of you for me." She instructed. The boy opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand to stop him. "I'll write a note to Paige to let her know that I was the one who detained you. You won't be in any trouble."
The boy gave her words consideration for all of five seconds before he shoved the paper into her hand and hurried up the steps into the house. Haley thought it odd that the boy had come unaccompanied. Most slave owners didn't let their slaves go off on their own for fear they wouldn't come back. But Paige had told Haley more than once that Cedric was an exceptionally bright lad and could avoid trouble with such an unearthly ability that she'd often wondered if he wasn't gifted with some sort of magic.
Before anyone could say anything that would lead to another fight, Haley unfolded the paper that Cedric had handed her. She read it three times before the words started to sink in. And, as luck would have it, her friends read it, too. When she could only stand there and stare at Paige's elegant script, the three of them silently ushered her back to the table.
She barely realized that they were folding her into the chair until she felt the wood against her backside. Petunia's voice called for Lulu even as the front door banged shut after her. Dolly sat in her chair, looking frightfully worried. Abigail alternated between fanning Haley's face and gently stroking her arm. "I'm so sorry, Haley. It must be such a terrible shock."
"Yes. It is," she murmured. And it was a shock. It seemed horrible that she was only thinking moments ago that she hadn't really wanted to marry Sam, that she didn't love him. But it didn't matter now. Paige's letter was very quick and to the point. "I can't believe it. Sam is dead."
~*~*~*~*~
Lulu and Thomas met her at the front door. Both of them blocked her path, as if their presence would keep her from doing what she felt was only right. She stopped and glared at them, hands on her hips. The scowl on her face did nothing to frighten them. "Miss Haley, you turn right around and march back upstairs. Take off them rags and put on your proper attire," Lulu ordered softly.
Haley shook her head. She couldn't do it. She couldn't simply go back to laying about the place limply, clad in naught but black. Mourning weeds. Horrible clothing. She hated them. Hated what they stood for. In fact, she hated the whole damned war.
It had been some months since she'd received Paige's quick, pain-filled missive. Months since she'd played the good little woman and had mourned Sam's loss. She really had mourned his death. He'd been a good friend, someone she'd known nearly all of her life. The idea that she'd never see his smile or hear his slow Kentucky drawl any more pained her heart. But she'd only been able to mourn his loss for months. And then the vaguely hopeless feeling she'd been filled with had given way to a resolute determination. She'd realized she was done sitting back on her laurels, doing nothing while good men died.
It was the idea that she had to do something to aid the cause that had seen her coming up with her current plan. That and the innocent words of one of the slave children on her family's plantation. The child in question had mentioned that she'd seen a camp enclosed by walls of stone and wood just on the other side of the valley, less than an hour's ride from the plantation. The camp had been flying the Confederate flag, but the child had seen men in blue being marched through the gates. The child had been able to overhear some conversation and had discovered that this place was a small, fortified camp belonging to the Confederacy. Wounded were shuttled in daily for medical attention. And so were Union prisoners.
Haley had slipped from the house only last week and made her way to the camp. What she'd found was a squalid, dirty mess in the middle of a scar field that had obviously seen a battle fought on it. Some walls were stone, obviously the outer walls of a bombarded plantation home that had been razed to the ground, while the others were of wood. Piles of dirt rested against the wooden walls, while smoke spiraled up toward the sky from fires burning inside. She could hear the sounds of horses and men. Some where happy sounds. Some were the moans and groans of men who were dying a slow, painful death. It had been frightening and strengthening all at the same time.
Haley had met with the surgeon, who was covered in glistening red blood, and studiously ignored the bodies that lay strewn in the dirt like garbage. She'd ignored the faint stench of rot. And she'd told the surgeon that she wished to help the Confederacy by helping its wounded. The doctor had looked her up and down, then asked if blood made her faint. She'd gone into great detail about the time she'd had to help her father's favorite mare birth a foal. The man had grunted and welcomed her, then he'd returned to his operating theater without another word. She'd returned home, more determined than ever about the decision she'd made.
The wounded needed a soft, gentle touch. Her mother had told her once, long ago, that Haley had a tender side to her that made her want to care for every stray she saw. And she felt that same urge now, though it was focused on the men who had been injured in battle. They needed to know that they had something or someone to fight for. It was Haley's idea that she would present herself to the fort and take a position as a nurse, that she would give back to the men of the South by tending to them and healing their ailments.
Neither Thomas nor Lulu liked the idea very much.
"Miss Haley, your brother charged me with seeing to your care. If something was to happen to you while you're out among the Union soldiers, Master Harper would whip the skin off my back," Thomas told her.
"Harper will have to get past me to do it, Thomas. Now step aside and let me go. I'm going to be late."
"That butcher shop ain't no place for a lady like you, Miss Haley," Lulu said, trying a different method of attack. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at both of them.
"We all make sacrifices in the face of war, Lulu. I need to do this. Don't you see? Our boys need a smiling face and a kind word to remind them what they're fighting for. I can give them that. I can give them a comfort they likely haven't known since the whole damned thing started."
"You can't leave the house dressed like that. It ain't proper," Lulu insisted. Haley glanced down at the simple skirt and blouse she wore. Both were of dark colors, mostly to hide the dirt and the blood. She'd also found an old apron, greyed with age and use, and had tossed that on over them. Her hair had been pulled back into a braid and left to hang down her back. Not quite the ladylike style she normally wore, but this wasn't a normal situation.
"I regret to inform both of you, but I am your mistress. And you both must do what I say. I say step aside and let me go do what I can to ease our soldiers' weary minds." Haley folded her hands before her and stared at them both. "You know I can take care of myself. I'll be taking a revolver with me for protection."
Thomas and Lulu were silent for what felt like hours, then they shifted away from the door. She offered a thankful smile to them both. But Thomas put a hand on her arm and stopped her before she could sweep past him. "I ain't gonna let you ride out there by yourself, Miss Haley. One of the boys will ride with. Ain't proper for a lady to go without an escort."
"Thank you, Thomas. I'll be home before dark. Everything will be fine. You'll see."
~*~
The camp had to be one of the lowest levels of Hell. It just had to. There were men laying about in the dirt and muck, some of them dead and the rest dying. The ground was rich with blood and shit, as was the hem of her skirt and apron. It clung to her shoes and clothing as if it was a hungry child demanding its mother's breast. And the smell... She'd never smelled anything like this in all her life.
She'd been in motion since the moment she'd arrived. The surgeon had taken her into the operating theater and had her assist him with several amputations. Between the whiskey and the laudanum, the men hadn't felt a thing. Until the numbing cocktail had worn off. Then the screaming had started until someone had fed them more pain killers. More alcohol. Always more.
More blood. The tools the surgeons used were coated bright red. Their smocks and aprons were coated bright red. Their hands were encased in gloves of bright red. The tables they worked on and the floor beneath their feet were bright red, slick with old and new blood. It had taken her a while to become accustomed to the smell of all that blood.
And now, after hours at it, she was grateful for the comfort of her own kind of numbness. It kept the horror of all she'd seen and done from her. Perhaps later, when she had time to think about it all, she'd slip into madness, gibbering the entire way. But for now, she would deal with it the only way she knew how. Head on and with her head held high. She'd wanted to do this. And do it she would.
Later, when it was all said and done, she could fall apart.
She'd never seen such deplorable conditions in all her days. Men in blue and in grey were left to lie where ever they'd been put. Some moaned for food. Some moaned for water. Some screamed in pain. Some stared up at the sky with sightless eyes. Those that wore blue were mostly ignored. Those that were in grey were cared for to the best of the surgeons' abilities.
There was a team of men who dug graves for the dead Confederate soldiers. They would carry the lost souls out one at a time, wrap them in burlap, and lower them into the ground. Then they'd shovel dirt over them and move on to the next while a man of God walked along the freshly covered mounds and delivered words of comfort that no ears would ever hear. The dead Union soldiers were dumped into a deep pit and buried in a mass grave when no more bodies would fit.
Whatever chore needed done, she did it. She aided the surgeons. She aided the grave diggers. She aided the wounded soldiers. She was back and forth constantly, with no time to herself. This task she'd set herself was draining, both physically and emotionally. She'd never thought to see such things in all her days. And the horror never really ended. There was always something new to see. Something new to hear. Something new that she didn't need added to her list of nightmare inducing things.
As it neared the end of the day, she was given the task of distributing food to the prisoners. One of the Confederate soldiers was assigned to protect her. The camp cook handed her a pot of what he called stew while a small colored boy was given the task of handing out bowls and spoons. Haley eyed the swill in the kettle with a jaundiced eye. It resembled stew about as much as she resembled the Queen of Sheba. And it smelled almost as foul as the dead and the drying blood and the piss and shit did.
Haley threaded her way through the captured Union soldiers. They were all chained together, their chain locked to a wooden post so that they couldn't go anywhere. They barely had an opportunity to stretch their limbs. And most of them were injured, making it impossible for them to get up and go anywhere anyway. Some areas of the deep blue uniforms on nearly all of them men were crusted with dried blood and dirt. Some of them barely noticed she was there. Some wouldn't stop staring at her. At least not until the Confederate soldier with her threatened him with his weapon.
They followed a pattern. The young boy with the bowls would set one in the prisoner's lap, then he'd drop a spoon into the bowl. After that, Haley would ladle some of the swill in her kettle into the bowl for the soldier to eat or ignore as he chose. And as she moved down the line of prisoners, she realized more and more that the faces she was looking upon didn't belong to some great monster, like the Confederate government wanted its citizens to believe. The faces she was looking upon were the faces of men, young and old. Men who were fathers and husbands, brothers and uncles, nephews and cousins. Friends and neighbors. They were the faces of the men she'd grown up with all her life.
Deep inside, she realized that they deserved better than what they were getting.
A soft laugh brought her from her thoughts and saw her seeking out the owner of a sound that so obviously didn't belong in this hellish place. He was further down the line, chained like the rest of them. A dirty bandage did little to hide the golden honey color of his hair. And the smudges of dirt and dried blood only made the blue of his eyes that much bluer, like the finest Southern summer skies. His lips, pale and split and cracked, were curved up in a smile that would tempt the angels.
He was watching her. Closely.
Their eyes met across the distance, met and held. And she felt it then. That something her Mother had told her about. It sparked under her skin, then caught fire and became a sizzling blaze that ripped through her and left her breathless. It was the spark that she knew came when one soul had found their mate. And wasn't it just her luck that the one who'd struck that spark was a damned Yankee?
Chapter One: Expectations
Fandom: something like the Marvel Universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: lots of violence (its set during the Civil War. duh!) and bloodshed. some language. sex. possible Southern drawl usage.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the Sues are the sole property of their originators,
ginevra , dazzledfirestar , nanaea , sessys_fangirl and ladydeathfaerie . the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar. Author's Notes: i totally and completely blame
mistress_o_muse for this one! its all her damn fault! Rebel Yell (A Mutant Sue Virus Civil War AU) - The Index
"The sun is oppressively warm today, isn't it?" Abigail asked as she snapped her fan open and used it to cool her face.
Dolly tittered a laugh and sipped at her lemonade. Beads of condensation slid down the sides of the glass, attesting to its cool temperature. "Abigail, its summer. You know its always oppressively warm here in the summer. Can't you stop complaining and let Haley tell us why she asked us to lunch today?"
Haley smiled at her friends, watching as Dolly leaned forward and scooped up another of the finger sandwiches. The girl hadn't said anything yet, but it was obvious to Haley that Dolly was with child. There was a barely noticeable thickening to her waist that suggested her wedding just a month ago to the younger Alan Platte had been more out of necessity than love. She found that curious and almost laughable. Friend though she was, Dolly wasn't the brightest girl Haley had ever met. Which probably explained how she'd ended up in the condition she was in.
"Yes, Haley. Do tell us your news." This came from Petunia. She was settled comfortably in her chair, not a single midnight strand out of place despite the heat. There was a hint of a smile on the woman's face that suggested she knew what Haley was going to tell them.
"Do you remember that Christmas party Harper and I attended right before the start of the war?" she asked them, her hand resting against the hidden pocket in her skirt. She could feel the hard press of the ring against her palm, offering her courage.
"You and Harper attended a Christmas party thrown by the Guthries. I remember that. Y'all were gone for nearly a month," Abigail nodded. She sipped at her lemonade.
"That's the one," Haley nodded. One hand flicked open her fan so that she could cool herself while her other hand slipped into that hidden pocket. With practiced ease, she nudged the ring onto her finger, then used her thumb to push it all the way up. "It was an amazing party. I can't recall ever seeing a house so festive before."
"Word has it that the Guthries always go all out for Christmas." Dolly picked up another sandwich. Haley nodded at her. "I was told that they had a tree so tall that no one could see the top."
"And you believed that, Dolly?" Petunia shook her head.
"Well, I'm sure I've never been to one of the Guthries' affairs. I'm only telling you what I was told," Dolly insisted. Then the woman turned to look at Haley. "Was it? Was their tree so tall, you couldn't see the top?"
"It was a tall tree, but not that tall." Haley offered Dolly a smile to cushion the blow. Dolly frowned, but soon found solace in her sandwich. She allowed her mind to stretch back over the past three years. She could see that night in her mind's eye as if it had happened only yesterday. "The tree stretched a good fifteen feet into the air and it glittered with all manner of glass ornaments. Candles twinkled brightly among the green of the needles."
"Relax, Haley. You're the best looking woman here." Harper told her, leaning in toward her as he escorted her into the large ballroom the Guthrie family was holding their Christmas bash in. The room was fragrant with the smell of freshly cut evergreen boughs. They ran all around the room, midway up the high walls and their long, leaded glass windows. Stands of candles were positioned all around the room, adding to the light spilled by the candles in the chandeliers overhead.
A giant tree, easily over fifteen feet tall, took up one whole corner of the room. It was decked out with strands of red and gold ribbons. The ornaments, made of gold and silver glass, glittered among the green pine needles. Short candles illuminated the tree so that everyone could see just how beautiful it was. A gold gilt star at the top. Gaily wrapped presents were nestled under the lowest boughs of the tree, awaiting the time when their recipients would be allowed to open them.
A small orchestra had the other corner, playing out waltzes and livelier other dances for the party goers. Men were dressed in their finest suits. Long, velvety black coats and pants were made bright and gay by silk waist coats in a rainbow of jeweled colors. The women were just as vibrant in silks and satins, their dresses trailing behind them as they moved and flowed. Most of them wore festive holiday colors. Red and green and gold.
Haley had gone against what she knew the other women were going to wear, choosing to shun the traditional holiday hues in favor of something that was more suited to her personality. The gown was of silk, with a bodice that clung to her body while the skirt flared and flowed out around and behind her. What made it so amazing was that the silk used to weave the material the gown had been crafted from shifted colors in the light. At one moment, it looked silver and at the next, it appeared a blue-ish silver color. All of the accent work on it was done in silver, right down to the small amount of lace that had been used to give it that feminine touch.
The gown had cost Harper a pretty penny. Haley had insisted that he hadn't needed to purchase it for her, that she had something in her wardrobe that would suffice for the Christmas ball. But he'd insisted. And now, after seeing everyone else in their finery, she was secretly glad she hadn't fought him harder on it. Every eye in the room turned her way. She could see a touch of admiration in the men's gazes and a hint of jealousy in the women's. Turning a glance toward Harper, she offered her brother a smile. "You say the loveliest things, brother dear. But I'm afraid that the other ladies here are most displeased."
"You let me worry about the other ladies here. You just have yourself a good time," he replied.
She didn't have time to respond to him. Almost as soon as she entered the ball room, a finely dressed young man she'd never met before asked if she would honor him with a dance. Harper nudged her into the eager embrace of her would-be suitor and laughed when she shot him a foul look. But the young man quickly took hold of her attention as he launched into a tale about the time a raccoon had to be chased from his mother's pantry.
Haley found herself swung from one pair of arms to the next until it seemed as if she had danced with every man there. Twice. She was hot and tired, and she found herself longing for a cup of chilled lemonade and a chair in a hidden corner where she could rest herself. But before she could slip away from everyone and seek solace, she was caught up in the arms of her brother, who smiled down at her knowingly, and swung her into the lively waltz that was playing.
She knew him well enough to understand that he had some manner of surprise planned for her. She also knew that Harper would keep his surprise to himself until he was truly ready to let her know what was going on. So she smiled at him, as she was expected to, and plotted ways to get back at him when they finally returned to their own plantation after the new year. Perhaps she could even get her maid Lulu in on it with her.
The waltz was at an end and she wanted nothing more than to rest her feet. She was tired and warm, small droplets of moisture clinging to her hairline and gathering over her upper lip. Perhaps she could excuse herself and seek the solace of the room she'd been given. But it wasn't to be because just as she was pulling from her brother's hold, she felt another hand on her arm and she was being spun to face yet another suitor.
"Good evening, Miss Haley. You look particularly lovely tonight." Blue eyes stared down into her face, twinkling with mischief. There was a slight smile tilting the corners of his lips up and he'd taken extra care with his blonde hair. Golden hued locks that were normally unruly and defied all attempts with a comb had been tamed and slicked down. His suit was as black as night and his waist coat was silver. Something told her that he'd taken great care with his clothing and appearance.
Curious. Just what did he have planned?
She smiled at him and felt a faint blush stain her cheeks. "Why thank you, kind sir. Its so nice of you to say."
"Dance with me?" he asked. There was a twinkle in his eyes that suggested he had other things in mind. The blush darkened and she nodded her head. Even before she'd finished nodding, he swept her into his arms and out onto the floor.
He was all grace and fluid motion as he pulled her into the dance. They said nothing, simply whirled and twirled around the floor. They were so caught up in one another that they barely missed colliding with other couples. Laughter bubbled up on occasion to drown out the music, but it always faded into the background so that the orchestra could be heard. At the conclusion of the song, they came to a halt near the giant tree.
Silence fell as he lifted his arms and drew the eyes of every party goer their way. Haley felt her blush darken and wondered at his need to draw attention to them both. The air was filled with expectation as he waited to be sure that everyone was listening. "We all know that this is a special time of year, when families get together and celebrate their blessings and the joy of the season. Just let me say that my family is pleased to share our bounty with all of your families."
A chorus of "Here, here!" rolled around the room.
"My mother asked me this year what it was I wanted for Christmas. A new horse? A box of the finest cigars? The latest fashions straight from Paris? Now, y'all know I'm a simple man with simple tastes. So I looked my dear mother in the eye and said 'Momma, I don't want any of those things. They're all nice but I have my heart set on something else. Something much finer and much better than any of those things.' And y'all know my Momma. She just stared at me, wondering what I could want that was better than a horse."
He paused as laughter rippled up from the gathered throng, turning toward the tree behind him. Haley watched as he reached for a small, squarish shaped box wrapped in a piece of lush blue velvet and tied with a silver bow. Facing the crowd again, he made a show of dropping to one knee while offering the box up to her. A collective sigh filled the air even as a few hands began clapping in approval. "I offered my Momma a smile, then reached out and took her hand. As I ran my thumb over the ring that my Daddy put one her hand, I told her, 'Momma, I want what you and Daddy had. I want a love that shines brighter than the stars in the heavens. I want your blessing to take a wife.' And Momma just smiled and nodded her head. Y'all know she didn't want me to see her cry."
Again, laughter was the response.
"I got my Momma's blessing. So tonight, in front of all our friends and family, I want to ask Miss Haley Stone if she'll consent to be my blushing bride." She watched his hands pull the ribbon. It fell away from the box, followed by the blue velvet, to reveal a black jeweler's box beneath. Like the wrapping, it was velvet. He offered the box up to her with a hopeful smile. One finger pulled the top of the box back to reveal the ring inside. Haley felt her heart sputter to a stop in her chest.
The band was gold and shone brightly in the warm, mellow flames of the candles. There was a single diamond set up from the band, round cut and faceted so that it caught the light and shot it back at her in tiny rainbows. She watched as he took the ring from the box and held it between fingers that shook ever so slightly. "Haley, darling. Will you marry me?"
Her mind spun, endless thoughts spooling out like thin life lines in every direction. He was such a dear friend that it had been a joke between their families for a long time that they should just get married and be done with it. But that was part of the problem. He was just a dear friend. She loved him like a brother. Not the way she thought she should love a husband. She wanted the all consuming love that her parents had had. And some instinct inside of her told her that she'd know that love when she finally found it. This love wasn't it.
Sadly, society said that she couldn't pick a man she loved. Not when her family had made a match for her, which Harper obviously had. That explained why he'd insisted on the gown. No doubt she'd be wearing it at her wedding, too. Which meant that she had to give the answer she didn't want to give. Not to him, anyway. He wasn't the love of her life. But she knew what Harper would say when she cornered him about this at home. He'd say that this marriage was a good match and that Haley could have done worse. And he'd be right.
She knew, standing there with the entire party staring at them both, that she needed to say yes. It would be the right thing to do. It would keep them all from looking like fools. It would be safe and for the best. And it would be the hardest thing she ever had to do.
Bringing a smile to her face, one she hoped looked sincere, Haley gave a quick nod of her head, setting her curls to bouncing, and held out her left hand. "Yes, Sam. Of course I'll marry you."
He slid the ring up her finger, settling it into place above the joint. Then he rose and pulled her close for a kiss on the lips that was sweet and chaste and utterly lacking in the spark of fire that her mother had assured her would be there with the man she loved. The crowd roared their enthusiasm as she and Sam turned to face everyone. The smile fixed to her face, she turned and faced Sam's party guests. Harper was smiling, clapping along with everyone else. But she could see by the look in his eyes that he knew there would be hell to pay for doing things this way.
There was a bright flash and a puff of smoke, letting her know that the moment had been preserved for posterity. Music filled the room and Sam swept her into a lively dance, the lingering chemical smell of the camera flash that filled her nostrils some odd kind of evil omen of an ill wind that would soon blow her way.
There had been a huge argument with Harper as soon as they'd gotten home. Naturally, he'd won. But she'd let him know that she'd been less than happy with his underhanded methods. And after, when she'd had her say and was still stewing in anger, she'd plotted with Lulu just how to get Harper back. He'd gone insane looking for his best hunting rifle for the better part of three weeks.
She and Sam were supposed to have been married the following spring. But that ill will had blown and brought with it the grumblings of bitter politicians who felt that the federal government was doing its very best to trample their every right and freedom. Apparently, there had been talk of freeing the slaves in the South. And there wasn't a plantation owner who wouldn't fight such a thing to the bitter end. Which was what it had eventually come down to. Southern states had started seceding to form the Confederate States of America and, in April of 1861, the first shots of war had sounded in South Carolina, at Fort Sumter.
Sam had paid Haley a visit and he'd told her that he was signing up to fight the Yankees. And that they'd marry when he came home again. It had been difficult news, but she'd kept a brave face. Shortly after that, Harper had shattered that brave face when he'd told Haley that he was joining up, too. She'd had some letters since then, but she'd seen neither brother or betrothed since. It had been three long years since the war had started and there seemed to be no end in sight.
Haley shook off the unpleasant memories and drew her hand from her pocket, then held it over the table for her friends to see. As one, the three of them burst into laughter and squeals of excitement. Each took their turns admiring the ring she wore and asking non-stop questions that she wasn't going to answer time and again. Better she get them to settle down so that she could tell them everything once. At once.
"Oh, Haley! That ring is absolutely divine! How on earth could you keep this from us all this time?" Petunia asked, once more eyeing the ring Sam had slipped on her finger that Christmas almost four years ago.
"We were supposed to marry the spring following that party. But then this dreadful war happened and Sam felt it was his duty to go fight. So everything has been on hold since then. I keep hoping that the fighting will stop soon and they can come home." She missed them. Both of them.
"I'm sure our boys will have this silly old war put to an end soon enough," Abigail insisted, though there was more desperation than belief in her voice. She had brothers and a beau off fighting for the Confederacy. She'd already lost her father to the North's bullets. Haley didn't have the heart to mention that the last reports in the papers hadn't looked good.
"I thank God every day that my Alan didn't have to go off and fight," Dolly said as she scooped up the last of the finger sandwiches. Haley made a mental note to keep the food away from Dolly the next time the woman visited.
"Your Alan doesn't have enough sense to know the butt of the gun from the business end," Petunia said tartly. The comment was about to start an argument, but the sound of the door creaking open and closed stopped whatever Dolly wanted to say to Petunia. In only seconds, Lulu stood beside the table with a fresh pitcher of lemonade in her hands
"Can I refresh your drinks, Miss Haley?" Lulu was the same age as Haley. They'd grown up together and the dark skinned woman was more than a slave. She was Haley's friend. A sister that she'd never had.
"Thank you, Lulu. That would be splendid." Haley flashed her a thankful smile. Lulu returned it, then bent over the table and began pouring the tart beverage into her glass.
"I do declare, Haley. It looks as if you've got visitors." Abigail said with a snap of her fan. Haley glanced over Petunia's head to see a cloud of dust rising up in the distance. She knew what it meant. A rider was coming up the drive and he was coming fast. Rising from her seat, she moved to the edge of the porch and lifted a hand to shield her eyes. Lulu joined her only a moment later.
"Want me to fetch Thomas, Miss Haley?" Thomas was Lulu's older brother and Harper had entrusted the care of his sister and his estate to the man when he'd left for the war. If Lulu went and got her brother, he'd show up with a shotgun in hand, ready to defend Haley and the plantation to the death.
"No, Lulu. Thank you. I don't think its anyone threatening. There's only one rider," Haley replied softly. "Why don't you go back inside and allow me to deal with this?"
The black woman gave her a wide eyed stare. Haley knew what was coming even before Lulu opened her mouth. "Master Harper..."
"Isn't here, Lulu. I'll be just fine. I promise. Go on. Shoo." Haley made a motion to the house. Lulu left after shooting Haley a skeptical look. Only a few seconds later, she felt Abigail, Petunia and Dolly join her at the railing.
A lathered horse came pelting into view, the beast's sides heaving as its lungs worked in and out. The animal looked half-wild, as did the young black boy riding it. She recognized the lad as one of the slaves on Sam's family's plantation. Frowning, she searched for the boy's name. Cedric. He worked in the stables. The boy looked fit to be tied as he brought the horse to a quick halt. Throwing himself from the saddle, the boy hurried forward and ducked a bow as he met her on the steps. "Miss Haley?"
"Cedric. What brings you to my home?"
"Miss Paige sent me." The boy reached into his pocket and withdrew a scrap of much abused paper. "She told me I need to come straight here. And that I was to give you this. And then she told me I need to go straight home."
"You'll go home when your mount is rested and you've had some of Cook's pecan pie. Take yourself into the house and find Lulu. She'll take care of you for me." She instructed. The boy opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand to stop him. "I'll write a note to Paige to let her know that I was the one who detained you. You won't be in any trouble."
The boy gave her words consideration for all of five seconds before he shoved the paper into her hand and hurried up the steps into the house. Haley thought it odd that the boy had come unaccompanied. Most slave owners didn't let their slaves go off on their own for fear they wouldn't come back. But Paige had told Haley more than once that Cedric was an exceptionally bright lad and could avoid trouble with such an unearthly ability that she'd often wondered if he wasn't gifted with some sort of magic.
Before anyone could say anything that would lead to another fight, Haley unfolded the paper that Cedric had handed her. She read it three times before the words started to sink in. And, as luck would have it, her friends read it, too. When she could only stand there and stare at Paige's elegant script, the three of them silently ushered her back to the table.
She barely realized that they were folding her into the chair until she felt the wood against her backside. Petunia's voice called for Lulu even as the front door banged shut after her. Dolly sat in her chair, looking frightfully worried. Abigail alternated between fanning Haley's face and gently stroking her arm. "I'm so sorry, Haley. It must be such a terrible shock."
"Yes. It is," she murmured. And it was a shock. It seemed horrible that she was only thinking moments ago that she hadn't really wanted to marry Sam, that she didn't love him. But it didn't matter now. Paige's letter was very quick and to the point. "I can't believe it. Sam is dead."
~*~*~*~*~
Lulu and Thomas met her at the front door. Both of them blocked her path, as if their presence would keep her from doing what she felt was only right. She stopped and glared at them, hands on her hips. The scowl on her face did nothing to frighten them. "Miss Haley, you turn right around and march back upstairs. Take off them rags and put on your proper attire," Lulu ordered softly.
Haley shook her head. She couldn't do it. She couldn't simply go back to laying about the place limply, clad in naught but black. Mourning weeds. Horrible clothing. She hated them. Hated what they stood for. In fact, she hated the whole damned war.
It had been some months since she'd received Paige's quick, pain-filled missive. Months since she'd played the good little woman and had mourned Sam's loss. She really had mourned his death. He'd been a good friend, someone she'd known nearly all of her life. The idea that she'd never see his smile or hear his slow Kentucky drawl any more pained her heart. But she'd only been able to mourn his loss for months. And then the vaguely hopeless feeling she'd been filled with had given way to a resolute determination. She'd realized she was done sitting back on her laurels, doing nothing while good men died.
It was the idea that she had to do something to aid the cause that had seen her coming up with her current plan. That and the innocent words of one of the slave children on her family's plantation. The child in question had mentioned that she'd seen a camp enclosed by walls of stone and wood just on the other side of the valley, less than an hour's ride from the plantation. The camp had been flying the Confederate flag, but the child had seen men in blue being marched through the gates. The child had been able to overhear some conversation and had discovered that this place was a small, fortified camp belonging to the Confederacy. Wounded were shuttled in daily for medical attention. And so were Union prisoners.
Haley had slipped from the house only last week and made her way to the camp. What she'd found was a squalid, dirty mess in the middle of a scar field that had obviously seen a battle fought on it. Some walls were stone, obviously the outer walls of a bombarded plantation home that had been razed to the ground, while the others were of wood. Piles of dirt rested against the wooden walls, while smoke spiraled up toward the sky from fires burning inside. She could hear the sounds of horses and men. Some where happy sounds. Some were the moans and groans of men who were dying a slow, painful death. It had been frightening and strengthening all at the same time.
Haley had met with the surgeon, who was covered in glistening red blood, and studiously ignored the bodies that lay strewn in the dirt like garbage. She'd ignored the faint stench of rot. And she'd told the surgeon that she wished to help the Confederacy by helping its wounded. The doctor had looked her up and down, then asked if blood made her faint. She'd gone into great detail about the time she'd had to help her father's favorite mare birth a foal. The man had grunted and welcomed her, then he'd returned to his operating theater without another word. She'd returned home, more determined than ever about the decision she'd made.
The wounded needed a soft, gentle touch. Her mother had told her once, long ago, that Haley had a tender side to her that made her want to care for every stray she saw. And she felt that same urge now, though it was focused on the men who had been injured in battle. They needed to know that they had something or someone to fight for. It was Haley's idea that she would present herself to the fort and take a position as a nurse, that she would give back to the men of the South by tending to them and healing their ailments.
Neither Thomas nor Lulu liked the idea very much.
"Miss Haley, your brother charged me with seeing to your care. If something was to happen to you while you're out among the Union soldiers, Master Harper would whip the skin off my back," Thomas told her.
"Harper will have to get past me to do it, Thomas. Now step aside and let me go. I'm going to be late."
"That butcher shop ain't no place for a lady like you, Miss Haley," Lulu said, trying a different method of attack. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at both of them.
"We all make sacrifices in the face of war, Lulu. I need to do this. Don't you see? Our boys need a smiling face and a kind word to remind them what they're fighting for. I can give them that. I can give them a comfort they likely haven't known since the whole damned thing started."
"You can't leave the house dressed like that. It ain't proper," Lulu insisted. Haley glanced down at the simple skirt and blouse she wore. Both were of dark colors, mostly to hide the dirt and the blood. She'd also found an old apron, greyed with age and use, and had tossed that on over them. Her hair had been pulled back into a braid and left to hang down her back. Not quite the ladylike style she normally wore, but this wasn't a normal situation.
"I regret to inform both of you, but I am your mistress. And you both must do what I say. I say step aside and let me go do what I can to ease our soldiers' weary minds." Haley folded her hands before her and stared at them both. "You know I can take care of myself. I'll be taking a revolver with me for protection."
Thomas and Lulu were silent for what felt like hours, then they shifted away from the door. She offered a thankful smile to them both. But Thomas put a hand on her arm and stopped her before she could sweep past him. "I ain't gonna let you ride out there by yourself, Miss Haley. One of the boys will ride with. Ain't proper for a lady to go without an escort."
"Thank you, Thomas. I'll be home before dark. Everything will be fine. You'll see."
~*~
The camp had to be one of the lowest levels of Hell. It just had to. There were men laying about in the dirt and muck, some of them dead and the rest dying. The ground was rich with blood and shit, as was the hem of her skirt and apron. It clung to her shoes and clothing as if it was a hungry child demanding its mother's breast. And the smell... She'd never smelled anything like this in all her life.
She'd been in motion since the moment she'd arrived. The surgeon had taken her into the operating theater and had her assist him with several amputations. Between the whiskey and the laudanum, the men hadn't felt a thing. Until the numbing cocktail had worn off. Then the screaming had started until someone had fed them more pain killers. More alcohol. Always more.
More blood. The tools the surgeons used were coated bright red. Their smocks and aprons were coated bright red. Their hands were encased in gloves of bright red. The tables they worked on and the floor beneath their feet were bright red, slick with old and new blood. It had taken her a while to become accustomed to the smell of all that blood.
And now, after hours at it, she was grateful for the comfort of her own kind of numbness. It kept the horror of all she'd seen and done from her. Perhaps later, when she had time to think about it all, she'd slip into madness, gibbering the entire way. But for now, she would deal with it the only way she knew how. Head on and with her head held high. She'd wanted to do this. And do it she would.
Later, when it was all said and done, she could fall apart.
She'd never seen such deplorable conditions in all her days. Men in blue and in grey were left to lie where ever they'd been put. Some moaned for food. Some moaned for water. Some screamed in pain. Some stared up at the sky with sightless eyes. Those that wore blue were mostly ignored. Those that were in grey were cared for to the best of the surgeons' abilities.
There was a team of men who dug graves for the dead Confederate soldiers. They would carry the lost souls out one at a time, wrap them in burlap, and lower them into the ground. Then they'd shovel dirt over them and move on to the next while a man of God walked along the freshly covered mounds and delivered words of comfort that no ears would ever hear. The dead Union soldiers were dumped into a deep pit and buried in a mass grave when no more bodies would fit.
Whatever chore needed done, she did it. She aided the surgeons. She aided the grave diggers. She aided the wounded soldiers. She was back and forth constantly, with no time to herself. This task she'd set herself was draining, both physically and emotionally. She'd never thought to see such things in all her days. And the horror never really ended. There was always something new to see. Something new to hear. Something new that she didn't need added to her list of nightmare inducing things.
As it neared the end of the day, she was given the task of distributing food to the prisoners. One of the Confederate soldiers was assigned to protect her. The camp cook handed her a pot of what he called stew while a small colored boy was given the task of handing out bowls and spoons. Haley eyed the swill in the kettle with a jaundiced eye. It resembled stew about as much as she resembled the Queen of Sheba. And it smelled almost as foul as the dead and the drying blood and the piss and shit did.
Haley threaded her way through the captured Union soldiers. They were all chained together, their chain locked to a wooden post so that they couldn't go anywhere. They barely had an opportunity to stretch their limbs. And most of them were injured, making it impossible for them to get up and go anywhere anyway. Some areas of the deep blue uniforms on nearly all of them men were crusted with dried blood and dirt. Some of them barely noticed she was there. Some wouldn't stop staring at her. At least not until the Confederate soldier with her threatened him with his weapon.
They followed a pattern. The young boy with the bowls would set one in the prisoner's lap, then he'd drop a spoon into the bowl. After that, Haley would ladle some of the swill in her kettle into the bowl for the soldier to eat or ignore as he chose. And as she moved down the line of prisoners, she realized more and more that the faces she was looking upon didn't belong to some great monster, like the Confederate government wanted its citizens to believe. The faces she was looking upon were the faces of men, young and old. Men who were fathers and husbands, brothers and uncles, nephews and cousins. Friends and neighbors. They were the faces of the men she'd grown up with all her life.
Deep inside, she realized that they deserved better than what they were getting.
A soft laugh brought her from her thoughts and saw her seeking out the owner of a sound that so obviously didn't belong in this hellish place. He was further down the line, chained like the rest of them. A dirty bandage did little to hide the golden honey color of his hair. And the smudges of dirt and dried blood only made the blue of his eyes that much bluer, like the finest Southern summer skies. His lips, pale and split and cracked, were curved up in a smile that would tempt the angels.
He was watching her. Closely.
Their eyes met across the distance, met and held. And she felt it then. That something her Mother had told her about. It sparked under her skin, then caught fire and became a sizzling blaze that ripped through her and left her breathless. It was the spark that she knew came when one soul had found their mate. And wasn't it just her luck that the one who'd struck that spark was a damned Yankee?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-03 04:32 am (UTC)*muah muah muah!*
The South may not rise again, but the Lady does...erm, so to speak. ;D)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-03 04:45 am (UTC)anyway, glad you enjoyed.
(p.s. your Sue isn't in here. so nyah!)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-03 04:51 am (UTC)That's cool, about working in the timeframe without necessarily bringing the 'times' in per se. It's all about characters baaaaabeeyyy! :D)
And yep, I totally enjoyed!
(*pouts heavily* I noticed...:D( lol)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-03 04:36 am (UTC)And Haley, Haley, Haley... no matter what time we throw her into she's still the same stubborn twit she always was. LOL
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-03 04:46 am (UTC)and yes. Haley is ever Haley, no matter what time it happens to be. but that's why we love her as we do.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-03 10:58 pm (UTC)I've got the odd desire to try reading some of this into a recorder and see just how it sounds with the southern drawl. Probably a good thing I don't have the time, right? I might just embarrass myself. LOL.
Looking forward to reading more.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-04 01:12 am (UTC)i don't know if the machine would put in that slow southern drawl that i hear in my head when i'm writing. it would be interesting to find out. maybe.
glad you enjoyed, hon. i just have to come up with more ideas. easier said than done these days.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-04 01:37 am (UTC)I don't think they have one on ReadThe Words. I meant I was tempted to record myself and see how it came out. Might be good for a chuckle or two.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-04 01:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-04 02:32 am (UTC)It's a very interesting start. I look forward to seeing where this one goes, what the girls are like, and who they all end up with.
Now why do i suddenly have the desire to watch Gone With the Wind? lol
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-04 02:46 am (UTC)i'm sure i could have thrown in at least one of the other Sues here, but i've been trying to keep the chapters of my newer fics down around the 6000 word mark. shorter means easier to write and read. but i'm glad you enjoyed it. here's hoping that my brain doesn't explode before i can get something finished.
and i don't know. i didn't get that urge.