08-06-2008, 10:07 AM
Hey ^^ Is Pikapi here, with a new offering (and an entirely new fandom which I've not written in before! If anyone is a GWTW fan, you'll recognise this as the famous "jail scene", but with a bit of a twist. Expect more such twists in the coming months! Here's the first chapter of "There is a thing called Redemption". Enjoy!
THERE IS A THING CALLED REDEMPTION
BY K-CHAN
RATING: PG13
DISCLAIMER: Gone with the Wind and its characters are property of Margaret Mitchell and copyrighted to her. I am making no money from the writing of fanfiction.
SUMMARY: Hard times call for desperate measures, and Scarlett is about to embark on the gamble of her life to save the one place she loves more than anything. What she doesn't know, however, is that she's going to come to a few realizations along the way.
WARNINGS: Um, nothing that I can think of, except a bit of angst (seriously, blink and you could miss it).
THERE IS A THING CALLED REDEMPTION
CHAPTER 1
Cold winds swept the lonely red fields of Tara, and the sight struck a fresh, though dull chill to Scarlett's heart as she stood at the window, watching the sunset, her face pressed against the moss green velvet curtains. Her entire body was drained of any feeling, and she felt dully that she could care about nothing ever again. The threat of losing Tara, coupled with the loss of Ashley's backing would ordinarily have been enough to crush her, but despite her sense of loss, she felt determination still stubbornly lurking underneath the surface. Ashley might have failed her, and she might be on the verge of losing Tara to Jonas Wilkerson and Emmie Slattery, but she wasn't done yet. Laughing words repeating in her mind over and over had given her a fresh sense of hope even in the middle of her misery and desolation.
"There's only one person in this world who has money... Rhett Butler."
Yes, he was a skunk, and she hated him like no other person, but right now, he was the most dependable person in the world, despite his perverse nature and his disconcerting knowledge of her secret. And he had money. Money was the only thing that would conquer her fear of losing the one place on earth that mattered more to her than anything else right now.
But there came a niggling fear in the back of her mind even as she felt fresh determination cauterize her spirit. Supposing the three hundred dollars she needed wasn't enough? She would need money for the rest of her life, to guard against her fear of poverty. Money was the one thing that could conquer that fear, and she realized with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she would need money for the rest of her days, to guard against failure and poverty. Money was going to be a constant worry in her heart unless she had enough to guard against the threat of poverty and losing the one remaining thing that was more dear to her than anything. Tara was her lifeblood, and it was her job to guard it against the encroachments of nature and the Carpetbaggers and Scallawags who were making life such a misery for the South.
One thing which was certain; Ashley was never going to be a reliable safety. He was a marsh light in the mists of her nightmare, and he was false, untrue to the haven of safety and security she sought in her dreams. Ashley had never been a reliable refuge, and a tired wonder came over her as she realized she had never truly cared for him at all. Her schoolgirl passion, as Rhett had termed it so correctly, had fizzled when he had pressed the red clay into her hand and reminded her of what she had to guard and keep, not just for herself, but for her father, her sisters, her son, her darkies, Will, and for Melanie, Ashley and Beau. They were all looking to her for guidance, and it was up to her to seek out the true refuge hiding in the mists. She had no clear idea of what that refuge was, or even who it was, but Rhett Butler was the one solid dependable person whom she knew without a doubt would help her. Getting his help would be difficult, but she had no illusions that any tricks or coquetry would work. Rhett would see right through them, and he would likely refuse and laugh in her face. The truth was going to have to do, and though she cringed from the mere thought of revealing her poverty to the man she was so desperate to win over to her cause, she knew it had to be done.
Her mind made up, she turned towards the door. "Mammy!" she called, knowing full well her faithful friend would right outside the door, like a wise old black genie. And sure enough, the mainstay of Tara and her closest companion, lumbered in, almost as though summoned by magic.
"Whut is we going to do, Miss Scarlett?" Mammy's face wore a preoccupied, worried look, no confidence oozing off her now. She was terrified at the thought of being turned out of her home, a place she loved second only to her determined, bullheaded mistress.
"We're going to do something, and not sit around feeling sorry for ourselves," Scarlett said firmly. She then fixed her friend with a stern eye. "And I need you to promise me something. I know you can't stand him, but we're going to Atlanta to see Rhett Butler and ask him for a loan." She could see the anger start to swell in Mammy's frame, but spoke over her to prevent an outburst. "He's the one person we can depend on, and I'll be damned if we knuckle under because you hate him. I hate him too, but I've learned that you have to cast your lot with the enemy sometimes in order to survive."
Cornered, Mammy nodded. There was no arguing with that determined look on her mistress's face. Scarlett felt relief creep into her bones. Mammy would be there like a guardian angel, but Scarlett had no desire to let her old nurse in on her conversation, already knowing that if all else failed, she would have to promise the one thing she revolted against. But as she had said herself, casting her lot with the enemy meant she had to face her darkest fears. And this was no time to be squeamish.
Scarlett inspected herself critically in the mirror as she got dressed. She and Mammy had arrived the night before, only to discover that Atlanta had changed drastically. Rebuilding was going on at a phenomenal rate, and there were more people than she could ever remember seeing in five years. Why, it was as if Atlanta's population had doubled, and the railroads which had given it such life were bringing it back to life, more vigorous and lusty than before. It was the place for opportunities, but as Scarlett dressed, thanking the gods Mammy and Pitty had gone to Mrs Bonnell's, she knew her opportunity of securing a loan from Rhett was going to be that much harder, with him being in jail, facing the chance of hanging by the rope. The thought was not a pleasant one, and she wondered why this was so, for she knew she couldn't stand Rhett, and thought that hanging was far too good a fate for him. So why did the thought of his imminent exit by the rope cause a dread feeling in her breast? She dismissed the thought, too concerned with her current peril to care overmuch for the vagaries of her nature. What mattered was that she had to lay out her circumstances to Rhett and pray he could help her in some way, even if it was just by giving her a listening ear.
Snatching up the Paisely shawl which had belonged to Ellen, Scarlett surveyed her reflection again. Rhett was going to know something was wrong the moment he set eyes on her, and this was just what she was counting on. Near starvation and the hard work at Tara had worn her thin, giving her green eyes a cat like hunger that no one would be able to miss. The pretty girl had fled, leaving a hard eyed, thin woman, determined to do everything to keep her family and her negroes safe, no matter what it took. If she had to murder, she would do so again, and if she had to permit thievery in order to keep food on the table, then she herself would go out and rob if need be. And if the only way to get money was to engage in something she didn't want to do, then she would gladly do it. She knew, of course, that Rhett would never marry her. He had said so himself, that he was not a marrying man. But he was a man who had the means to get whatever he wanted, and if he still wanted her, then she would give herself to him, not by choice or desire, but because it would be the only way to keep the wolf from Tara's door.
The wind was cold and strong as she walked down the street, but the sun was working hard to dry the mud which had formed the night before, and Scarlett tried to ignore the bitter cold, shivering violently in particularly strong gusts of wind. The firehouse was still blocks away, but she wasn't going to risk being seen by anyone she knew if she attempted to hitch a ride. No one must know of her errand and the possible outcome until she was ready to say so. If it failed, she would say nothing.
The firehouse finally came in sight, but to her dismay, a small village of huts had sprung up around it, and from the top of the city hall, she spotted a large, United States flag flying from the topmost flagpole. Her spirits sunk even lower when she saw sentries crossing in front of the firehouse. Rhett was in there. How on earth was she to get inside and see him if they were convinced he was such a dangerous prisoner?
Her chance came when she saw a sentry approaching her, wearing a thick blue overcoat against the cold, and she summoned her most convincing smile as he came up to her and asked her what her business was.
"I want to see someone in there... a prisoner," she said, hoping against hope that this sentry was a nice man. If he wasn't, well, that was going to make things difficult.
Fortunately, the sentry was a gentleman. "Well, they are mighty particular about letting visitors in," he said, scratching his chin, "but if you go on over to Post Command, I'll reckon they'll help you more."
Scarlett smiled, relieved. "Thank you."
Seeing Rhett turned out to be harder than she had anticipated, because he was currently being spoken to by a board of inquiry - whatever that meant! But Scarlett had been assured of an interview with him as soon as he was returned to the firehouse, and in the meantime, she was allowed to wait in the orderly room, one of the captains having promised she could have some time with him alone. It had been a real stroke of luck that they had assumed her to be his sister, come to see her brother and bring him some cheer while he was incarcerated, although the derisive snort coming from another captain seemed to her to tell otherwise.
The orderly room was none too warm, and the time seemed to drag as she waited, counting the seconds as they passed. But being made to wait was giving her a chance to think more on the events of two days ago. The tired wonder which had filled her then was back again, and she let her mind drift on the startling truth which had shot like a comet through her brain. Ashley, the man she had once thought she loved more than life, meant nothing more to her than, well, any of the men who had loved and courted her, and were now dead, needless casualties of a futile war to free the darkies and give them leave to lord it over their former white masters, backed by the power of the North. Now she saw him for what he truly was, no longer blinded by the fury of love which had once beaten in her heart. She did care for him, but she now saw that he was nowhere near like to her, and never would be. It was now plain as day why he had married Melanie. She was of his blood, as alike to him as he was to her, and they shared the same loves, the same dreams. Melanie had something Scarlett knew she would never be able to give Ashley, and she accepted this without bitterness.
Finally, after what seemed like an age, Scarlett heard voices, and then came the familiar sound of Rhett's laugh. She stood, her heart in her throat, as the door opened, and he appeared in the doorway. Despite being without a coat and cravat, despite being unshaven, dishevelled and slightly the worse for wear, his dancing black eyes were the same as ever, and white teeth split his face in the first open, honest smile Scarlett could ever remember seeing from him. He took her hands in his and just stood there, examining every detail of her face as if recalling memories from a long time ago. "It makes being in jail worth it to see a friendly face again," he said at last, smiling again, and Scarlett found it in her to smile back, although her smile was slightly more strained.
"If I were you, I wouldn't be so joyful," she warned, and Rhett's face stilled as he took in details he had missed in his initial delight at seeing her again; her worn, patched dress, her work roughened hands, and the tight, gaunt face which now wore an expression of tired, resigned bitterness. This was not the Scarlett he remembered, and he drew her to a chair without another word, sitting her down and pulling up a chair beside hers before taking her hand and holding it tightly against his arm. His dark face was expressionless now, but this encouraged Scarlett rather than frightening her.
"What happened?" he asked quietly, no mockery in his voice, but honest compassion, and this spurred Scarlett to speak, after she feared for a moment that she would be unable to say a word about her desperate plight. She started with the night she had arrived at Tara, to find Ellen dead, Gerald half mad from grief, her sisters recovering from the illness which had taken their mother, and Tara on the brink of ruin. She spoke of the Yankee marauder she had killed, of the soldiers who had invaded her home and taken what little she had managed to scrounge together, of the back breaking work and near starvation, of the endless hours picking cotton, ploughing, chopping firewood, the arrival home of Alex and Tony Fontaine, the talks she'd had with Grandma Fontaine and her two daughters-in-law, Young Miss and Sally, of the never ceasing fear that everything she worked for would be taken from her in an instant. She spoke of the surrender, of the endless number of men who had come by Tara on the way home, seeking shelter and a place to recuperate before they went on their way, of Frank Kennedy's news about the condition Atlanta had been in when Sherman and his men had left. She even included the arrival of Will, and how much of a help he had become, and she didn't even leave out Ashley's arrival home. She could see Rhett's face harden slightly at the mention of Ashley's name, but he never took his hand from hers, and this encouraged her to finish her story with Jonas Wilkerson's threat, and the three hundred dollars in tax she had to pay if she was to keep Tara safe. This led finally to her need for not just the tax money, but also for money to keep her secure against the uncertainties of life which plagued her now. If she paid the taxes, things would be all right for a little while, but then someone else would come along and hoist the taxes higher, until she would be unable to pay.
"That's why I came here," she finished at last, her voice somewhat hoarse from the length of her story. "I was praying you might be able to help me, but when I heard you were in jail, well, I knew that it might be harder. You're the only one I could think of who would have the means to help me, but I..." She trailed off, fighting tears of disappointment.
Rhett said nothing for a while, but he did wipe her tears away with his free hand, and when he did speak, his voice was quiet, carefully controlled. "And what of the honourable Ashley Wilkes?" he asked. "I assumed you would have tried to thrust your burden on him, thinking that some measure of tenderness in his heart would lead him to miraculously come to a solution, even at the cost of everything he holds dear."
Scarlett almost cringed at this accurate summation of the scene in the orchard – which she saw no need to speak of, already knowing Rhett would guess the exact nature of her talk with Ashley without being told – but she regained her poise and nodded. "I did," she confessed, "but when he made it clear that no such solution was forthcoming, I realised that he would never be of any help to me, that he never had been anything more to me than a passing phase, and that I should look elsewhere for security."
"And you chose me," Rhett remarked casually. "Well, you were partially right. I could help you if I had the means to do so. I can't stand to see you suffer like this, and if I could, I would give you the three hundred dollars right now, with no collateral, no security. You see, if there’s one thing I could never stand from you, it’s a lie. I can stand anything else from you but that. If you had tried lying to me,, I would have found you out, and then it would have been rather embarrassing for us both. I applaud your honesty. But I cannot give you the money, at least not right now. You see, I'm being hauled before board after board of inquiry, haranguing me about the whereabouts of the mythical millions belonging to the late lamented Confederacy. Only I and a select few others know where such money is located, but I am not at liberty to discuss it." He shrugged. "I don't distrust you, Scarlett, but it is a matter of keeping that money intact until such time as I am free of this nightmare."
She nodded quietly, her face anguished but composed, and Rhett continued speaking, admiration clear in his black eyes. There was none of the usual mocking humour she was so used to, and that gave her courage as he resumed. "What I can offer you is this. As soon as I can escape this hell hole, I will give you the three hundred, and whatever other means you may need to keep the wolf from Tara's door. But I need a promise from you before I entrust any of my money to you. And I want you to be very truthful with me. You've done exceedingly well so far, in my opinion, but I don't want to risk that you will suddenly change your spots just to gain a loan from me. Am I understood?"
Scarlett nodded again. "I understand," she said quietly. Rhett nodded in his own turn.
"Very well. In that case, I want you to promise me that you will do everything, and I mean everything, in your power to make your own life, not a life that is resting under the shadow of Ashley Wilkes. I understand that right now, he is at Tara because he has nowhere else to go, and I am tolerant of saving Tara while he is there. But he must make his own efforts to make a better life. If he is agreeable, I can arrange to have him and Mrs Wilkes come back to Atlanta and raise their son among friends and family. Is that reasonable?"
"It is," Scarlett said, her heart lifting.
"I can also secure whatever employment Mr Wilkes feels he is suited to do," Rhett continued. "Of course, being the type he is, he won't find it easy. However, I believe he can make a go of whatever he sets his mind to. He just has to want to do it. I will give him whatever assistance I can until he and Mrs Wilkes are ready to stand on their own. As for you and Tara, if you are agreeable, I will go back with you and see if I can chip in on that patch of red mud. I may not be a farmer, but you and Will Benteen have a man sized job on your hands, and your sick father isn't going to be much help, if you will pardon my speaking so frankly. I can lend whatever hand possible, but only if you promise me that one thing I asked of you."
Scarlett looked him square in the eyes, making sure he could see her intentions. "I promise."
Rhett held her gaze for a long moment, before nodding. "Good." Then he smiled, his face relaxing. "It's going to be somewhat of a wait," he added, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze, communicating something of his own confidence to her. "I hope you're a patient person, Scarlett."
"I am now, knowing I have something I can count on," she said, feeling her heart lift even more. Now that she had something secure she could count on, she knew that the wolf would be driven from Tara's door.
Rhett’s mouth twisted in the familiar sardonic grin she was so used to seeing. “Do you remember the first day we met?” he asked.
Scarlett blinked at this, surprised she felt no twinge of anger at the mention of their first meeting, especially considering the appalling circumstances under which it had occurred. “Of course,” she said, with far less tartness than would otherwise have been present at any other time. “How could I forget? I could quite easily have thrown another vase, this time at you.”
“I should be thankful there are no vases now,” Rhett murmured, before resuming. “I said then that you were a girl of very rare, admirable spirit, and seeing you here, risking everything to save that patch of red mud you love so much, I have no reason to change that opinion. I take my hat off to you. The man who eventually marries you is going to have a job on his hands keeping up with you.” And though he laughed as he said this, making her laugh as well, there was a serious note in his voice, and she caught, for a second, a strange look in his eyes. No, it wasn’t strange, she decided. It was just … unusual. But whatever it was, it made her toss her head.
“I’ll get married when I decide, thank you,” she replied tartly. “Besides, all the County boys are too busy rebuilding their plantations to even think about marriage.” Her heart caught at the thought of Alex Fontaine, working so hard with Tony to get Mimosa producing again. She knew he wanted to marry Dimity Munroe, and her heart went out to the girl, understanding her sorrow in a new way. What would it be like, Scarlett wondered, to wait so long for a man to get the means to marry and support her? Would she sit in silence like Dimity, waiting for the man she loved to be able to ask the question she’d been waiting to hear? Or would she forget him, and marry the first good looking buck who came along?
“Penny for your thoughts?” Rhett’s voice broke into her reverie, and she started, before smiling ruefully.
“What would you do if you wanted to marry someone, but they couldn’t get married right away?” she asked.
“Why do you ask?” Rhett’s face showed nothing but honest curiosity, and this gave Scarlett the courage to plunge on with her thought, and she told him about Alex and Dimity, and their current plight, taking encouragement from the earnestness she could sense in Rhett as he listened. Why, she wondered idly, could he not have been like this when she first had known him at the very early start of the war? Or had his former boorish behaviour been a cover for his true nature? But what was his true nature? Was it the dashing blockader, with the rakish air and the lack of respect for any woman born, save Melanie? Or was it this earnest man, who gave her all his attention as she spoke? It was hard to say, and as she finished, she decided she’d pursue this newest line of thought at her leisure.
“Would you wait, or would you marry someone else because you got sick of waiting?” she finished up. “Dimity’s been so patient; I can’t see how she can stand waiting. But it must hurt her so.”
“If I were her, I wouldn’t wait,” Rhett said, shaking his head. “I admire her determination to wait for her man, but your County suffered a lot of crushing losses during the war, and there are very few young men left. And those men who are left are too busy, as you say, to even consider marriage. Your friend Alex is a fine example. He and his brother have not only their mother and grandmother, but they have Sally, and little Joe. Then they have to work on getting Mimosa back into some admirable shape. And while that work is still needing to be done, marriage is the furthest thing from any of those young men’s minds. I’ll wager they don’t even know flirtations and pretty young women exist. Were I Miss Dimity Munroe, I’d be casting my net somewhat further. It may be years, and may be never, before Alex Fontaine can afford the time, and the leisure, to marry her, and there are enough women who lost their sweethearts and who have vowed to never marry another, without having their ranks added to.”
Scarlett nodded. As always, Rhett had a sensible answer. “I thought so,” she remarked. “Melly would probably disagree with you, though.” She grinned as she said this, and Rhett laughed.
“Miss Melly will always be a romantic till the day she dies,” he said, honest affection in his voice. It never occurred to Scarlett to even question the sudden shift from “Mrs Wilkes” to “Miss Melly”, and she giggled.
“And we both know that’s the reason she and Ashley are such a good match,” she said.
Rhett looked at her admiringly. “Indeed,” he said, his teeth flashing in a grin. “You have to admit, Miss Melly did make a very good catch, did she not? She’s a woman of very good common sense, and one of the very few great ladies I have ever been privileged to know in my lifetime.”
Scarlett tossed her head again in the old, flirtatious manner she’d practically forgotten how to use in the last year, suddenly feeling very mischievous. “And what about me, Captain Butler? Melly is at Tara, and I’m right here. Have you no room in your affections for this belle?”
To her surprise, Rhett didn’t run his eyes over her in the old, declothing glance which had given her goosebumps, nor did he make a rakish answer. Instead, he met her unspoken question with the honesty he knew she was seeking. “There’s room and plenty left over, Scarlett. But now it makes me wonder; have you room in your heart for an ex-Confederate soldier, an ex-blockader, a man who isn’t received in the best parlours in Atlanta?”
She started, staring at him as if she’d never seen before. All her old opinions of him had already been turned on their head a hundred times over, and this latest example had done it once more. “I …” She stopped, unable to answer. She wanted to give him an answer, but she couldn’t, and she looked at him in helpless confusion. Rather than showing any hurt, Rhett just smiled, a smile which made her heart turn over, and he kissed her on the forehead.
“Have your answer for me when I come to Tara,” he told her, before standing, pulling her to her feet. “And now, you’d best get back to Miss Pitty’s before the search parties are sent out for you. By the by, did you tell anyone else of what you had planned?”
“I did,” Scarlett said, shrugging as she took her bonnet from Rhett. “I wasn’t going to leave them in the dark, and besides, they know that, despite your unsavoury reputation, you’re a man who can be depended on when things get hot.”
“I’m touched at your faith,” Rhett replied, with a mocking grin. He watched as Scarlett wrapped her shawl around herself. “You will manage to get home safe, I trust?” Despite the seeming lightness of the question, she knew of his underlying concern.
“I’ve managed before,” she said, smiling. “Believe me, I can manage for a little bit longer. I have something to look forward to.”
“So you do,” he said, smiling back. “So you do. Have a safe trip home.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Enjoy!
|
