#it mustn’t have been easy coming in after bailey

[nalyra-dreaming]

I LOVE TO READ IT!!

[bee-kathony]

Walking the Tightrope - Jamie and Claire AU

The year is 1919, and a 13 year old Claire Beauchamp has just lost both her parents to the Spanish Influenza. Alone in the world, and out of options, Claire runs away, stumbling across train tracks. When she wipes away her tears, she discovers a train, and is welcomed aboard. 


What happens when Claire finds out that the train is home to the Ringling Brothers & Barnum and Bailey Circus? Luckily, she meets a family – The Fraser’s, who help her learn the circus life. But, will she always want to stay? Or will she eventually grow up and realize it’s time to leave the circus and her best friend, Jamie… behind?


This is the first 3(ish) and only chapters of this fic. I will also add the outline for what this story was going to be at the end. I hope you enjoy it and I was excited to get into the twists of this story. Moodboard by @beaauchamp xx

Chapter One 

Boston, Massachusetts 1919

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp was 13 years old when she ran away to the circus. Normally, young girls don’t run away to join circuses — especially not young British girls who had just moved to America.

Claire and her family were originally from England, the beautiful city of Oxford, and had relocated to the United States for Henry Beauchamp’s job. He was a veterinarian, and had been offered a position to teach the subject at Harvard University, an offer he couldn’t refuse.

Their family packed up their small home and moved across the Atlantic. Claire found it was rather easy to leave her home country, she hadn’t always been the best at making new friends. And besides, she had her parents to keep her company. Henry’s brother, Claire’s Uncle Lamb, was an archaeologist and had traveled with them to stay for a few months in between digs.

They had only been in Boston for eight months before the sickness came. It was 1919 and the Spanish Influenza was spreading rapidly throughout the country and throughout the world. Claire felt helpless as she watched people around her die.

“You must stay with Lamb, darling,” her mother said, voice barely above a whisper. “He’ll take good care of you.”

“But I want to stay with you, mum,” Claire gripped her mother’s hand, aware of how hot her skin felt against her own. “I want to stay with you and papa.”

Julia Beauchamp had woken up that morning with a chill that rapidly turned into a fever. It was a miracle that Claire wasn’t ill. Her father, Henry hadn’t been so lucky. He lay in the bed next to Julia, chest rising and falling slowly, skin moist with fever.

“We won’t be here much longer,” Julia said and did her best to squeeze Claire’s hand. “You must make a good life for yourself. I know you can.”

“Mother!” Claire weeped as her mother’s grip loosened. Bent over the bed, she threw herself on top of both her parents, desperate to give them all the life that was in her.

“Oh, Claire, dear,” her uncle Lamb raced in and pulled her off the bed, his own eyes filled with tears as he watched his brother and sister-in-law leave the earth. “You mustn’t look, child.”

“I want my parents!” Claire cried against her uncle’s chest, her body shaking and not able to contain the grief she felt. There was nothing that could have been done — nothing that anyone could have done.

She had just lost both of her parents, what could have been worse?

It was barely twenty-four hours later that her favorite Uncle Lamb had fallen ill and died of the Spanish influenza. Claire Beauchamp was now an orphan with no one to turn to and nowhere to go.

An orphanage was the only suitable place for a girl like her. The thought of being stuffed into a house with tens of other children without a family made her stomach twist into knots.

Claire stood by herself, hands clasped firmly in front of her, trying not to cry as she watched her parents and uncle’s caskets be lowered into the ground. It took everything in her not to throw herself down and demand to be buried along with them. What did she have to live for?

Alone in the world and with nowhere to go, she ran from the funeral with nothing but the black dress on her body and the Oxfords on her feet. She thought she could make it on her own — survive all by herself.

There was no particular destination in mind, but the air around her was suffocating and every look of sympathy shot her way made her want to scream. So Claire turned, tears streaming down her face and began to run even faster.

The wind whipped past her face, salty tears flying behind her as she pumped her arms and legs to carry her as far away as possible. No one stopped her. No one knew her.

It wasn’t long before her chest began to burn and the tears filled her eyes to the point where she had to stop. When she looked up, she saw iron train tracks and followed them, only hoping that soon something would come and take her away.

As the sky darkened and the night grew cold, Claire shivered and wished more than anything for her family to be alive. But wishing wouldn’t bring them back. So with every step, Claire pushed out the memories she had of Henry, Julia and Lambert Beauchamp — because thinking of them only brought pain.

Stumbling along the tracks, her feet aching and stomach rumbling, Claire knew she needed to find a place to sleep. Lifting her head up, she saw lights in the distance — lights of a train. A train would have food and people, surely someone would be kind enough to help her find her way, or perhaps they would let her ride along.

With careful steps in the dark, Claire made her way to the last car of the train and stepped off the tracks to peer at the side of the boxcar.

Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus

A circus.

Claire’s eyes went wide, wondering what kind of animals lived inside the small confines of the boxcars. She had never been to the circus, but had always wanted to go. Claire loved animals and was always quick to make friends with them in whatever country they were visiting.

Voices came from further down and Claire walked forward into the light.

“Psst,” came from behind her and she whipped her head around, back into the dark. Not seeing anything, Claire shrugged her shoulders and kept moving forward. “Psst,” she heard the sound again.

“You!” A voice said quietly from above her. Claire looked up and gasped, jumping back to see a head sticking out of the boxcar. “I’m talkin’ to ye lass!”

“Me?” Claire pointed at herself.

“Do you see any other little girls around here?” The man said in a thick Scottish accent.

She shook her head and before she could do anything else, the man stuck his hand out, offering her a way up. With no other option, Claire reached up, grabbed it and was pulled up into the boxcar.

“Yer a wee thing,” the man said and for the first time, Claire got a good look at him. He was tall, with wide shoulders and had jet black hair. “What are ye doin’ out here so late at night?”

“I—“ She stammered, suddenly wondering if she made a mistake running away.

“Where are yer parents, lass?” The man said and when Claire met his eye, it hit her, the fact that she would never wake up to the smell of her father’s chocolate chip pancakes again or hear her mother sing along to the radio every evening. Tears fell down her cheeks and her chest caved in. The man with the jet black hair caught her in his arms as she began to fall to her knees and he held her against his chest.

“Shhh, I didna mean to upset ye,” he spoke softly. “Tis only it’s no every day young lasses come walkin’ beside the tracks.” The man ran his hand gently over Claire’s head, smoothing down the unruly curls.

“I have a lad about yer age, maybe a couple years younger. My daughter is probably near yer age though,” he said, trying to soothe her with conversation. “Usually the brothers dinna take a family on the road wi’ them, but they’ve allowed it this time.”

“Y-you have children?” Claire stammered as she wiped her face on her sleeve and looked up at the man. He released her, making sure she could stand on her own two feet.

“Aye, two of them, the wee numpties,” he laughed. “And my wife, they’re all part of the act, ye ken.” Claire raised her brows, unsure of what “act” he was talking about. He saw the confusion on her face, “Och, have ye never been to see a show before?”

“No, never.”

“My wife Ellen and I are lion tamers,” he said proudly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall of the cart. “My son and daughter are what ye could say cub tamers in training,” he laughed.

“You tame lions?” Claire asked, eyes wide for the second time that night. “I’ve never even seen a lion!”

“Ah, I thought I detected an accent,” he smiled. “That makes this even more curious. What’s a Sassenach like ye doin’ here?”

“A Sassenach?” Claire asked as she took a seat on a cot nearby, her legs unable to hold her up after a day of running and walking along the tracks.

“An English person, just a wee nickname,” the man smirked.

“I moved here with my parents about a year ago, we’re from Oxford.”

“Ah, Oxford,” he smiled. “I went there once as a lad, beautiful place. Yer parents, ye say? Where are they? Do they ken their daughter is runnin’ away from home to join the circus?” He laughed and then the laughter died as he caught sight of her face.

“My parents are dead,” she nearly whispered and the man dropped to his knees in front of her. “My uncle is dead. I have no one.”

“Oh lass,” he took her small hand in his. “I’m sae sorry, I— I’m sorry for yer loss.”

“Their funeral was today, it’s why I’m dressed like this,” Claire pointed at her dress. “I did run away, but I didn’t know where to run to.”

“It’s every kids dream to join the circus is it no?” The man put his thumb under her chin, lifting it up. “Ye’ve a place here, if ye want it.”

“But I can’t join the circus!” Claire laughed, her emotions running on overdrive. “I’m just a girl and a circus is no place for me.”

“Try tellin’ that to my daughter Jenny, she’ll be sayin’ the opposite,” he smiled. “She loves the animals, helps take care of them when she’s not performin’. She’s wi’ her Mam and brother up in the car ahead eatin’ dinner.”

Claire didn’t know what to say at this offer. Join the circus? It all felt like a fantasy. No one really ran away to the circus and certainly not young girls like her. But she didn’t exactly have a lot of options — no family, no house, no money.

“I’m Claire Beauchamp,” she offered her hand to the man.

“Brian Fraser, lass. Pleased to make yer acquaintance,” he kissed the back of her hand. “So is that a yes? Are ye runnin’ away to join us?”

It could’ve been much worse and as Claire looked around the small train car, she thought she might as well give it a try — the least she could get out of it was a hot meal and a night’s sleep.

“Yes. I’m running away to join the circus,” she smiled for the first time in days.

“Tha!” Brian smiled. “Ye’ve just made the best decision of yer young life, lassie. Now,” he stood up, taking her hand. “We need to feed ye and then find ye some place to sleep. I expect ye’ll be needin’ a wee nap soon.”

Claire followed Brian through a small door and through another into another train car. They walked through several others, past people with curious eyes and hushed tones, wondering who she was no doubt. Claire had never seen so many people crammed into such a small space before. They finally came into the train car Brian was looking for and he let go of her hand to walk over to a red headed woman, kissing her on the mouth.

They seemed to be in a train car where people ate, the place was lined with small tables and chairs, plates of food in front of everyone. Brian motioned for her to join him and she stood shyly next to him while he introduced her.

“I found a young lass outside,” Brian smiled, placing his arm around her shoulder. “This is Claire Beauchamp, she’s from England and she’s run away to the circus.”

“Run away?” The girl who must be his daughter Jenny said from beside her mother. “I didna ken anyone like ye would want to come and live here.”

“Who wouldn’t want to live here, Janet?” A young boy said beside her, looking at her with the bluest eyes Claire had ever seen.

“Claire will be joinin’ us for dinner tonight,” Brian smiled and then pulled up a chair for her. “Jamie, Janet, say a proper hello to the lass.”

The young girl stuck her hand out over the table, “I’m Janet, but you can call me Jenny. I’m fourteen. This is my younger brother, James.”

“But ye can call me, Jamie,” the young boy offered her his hand from beside her. He had a mop of curly red hair and mischievous glint in his eye. “Did Da tell ye we tame lions?!”

“He did,” Claire nodded. “I’ve never seen a lion before though.”

Jamie gasped, frightening Claire and he grabbed her arm, “Ye’ve never seen a lion? Jenny, did ye hear the lass?”

“I heard her fine well, Jamie,” Jenny rolled her eyes, but then smiled at Claire. “We can show ye them tomorrow when we unload”

“Unload?”

“Aye, when we unload to set up for the circus, we’ll be in Boston for the next two nights and then it’s on to another city,” Jenny smiled.

A plate of food was set down in front of Claire and her stomach made a very loud noise at the sight of it. She hadn’t eaten all day — she hadn’t eaten much of anything since she found out the news about her parents. She grabbed the fork and began to eat quickly, not caring if the food was too hot.

“Slow down lass,” Ellen smiled from across the table. “Ye need no worry about it disappearin’.”

“Sorry,” Claire said shyly, her cheeks turning bright red.

“Dinna fash, lass. I just dinna want to see ye gettin’ a belly ache. My Jamie gets those when he eats too fast,” Ellen smirked.

“Mam!” Jamie shouted. “Dinna talk about my belly in front of her!”

Brian snorted over his food, which only made Claire blush harder. She took her next bites a bit slower, savoring the taste.

“I never asked before,” Claire said to Brian once her plate was clean. “You’re from Scotland. You all are,” she looked around. “What are you doing here then?”

Brian glanced around at his family, then finally his eyes focused on Claire. “I suppose ye can say that we ran away too.”

Ellen took her husband’s hand, squeezing it so tightly her knuckles went white.

“We still need to find ye a place to sleep, lass,” Brian said a moment later. “There’s probably room for ye to join in our car tonight.”

“I can show her, Da!” Jamie said beside her and he nearly jumped out of his chair.

Laughing, Brian smiled, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Aye, son. Take her to the car, we’ll be there in a minute.”

“Follow me, Claire,” Jamie smiled, offering his hand to her. She took it, following the boy back through the train cars she had come through. They found themselves in the same car Brian had pulled her into. As she looked around now, she saw that it was rather cozy — as cozy and nice as a train car could get she supposed.

“This is where I sleep,” Jamie said as he pointed up at the top bunk. “Then Jenny sleeps in the middle and there’s actually an empty bunk on the bottom. I guess that’s where ye can sleep.”

“You all sleep in here?” Claire said.

“Aye, Mam and Da take the cot in the corner, tis small, but it’s enough,” Jamie smiled. He couldn’t have been but a couple of years younger than her, but he was just as tall as her, if not taller. He seemed kind and not for the first time, Claire wondered what an entire family was doing joining the circus.

“My Da said ye were runnin’ away…” Jamie said to her as he came to stand in front of her. “Why, Sassenach?”

“Oh you too?” Claire smirked. “Your father called me that earlier, I suppose I better get used to it.”

“Och, I didna mean any offense!” Jamie put up both his hands. “Yer English is all.”

“No, it’s alright,” Claire smiled and tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

“Ye didna answer my question…” Jamie said softly.

“I—“ Claire felt her chest tighten and her eyes water. “I’d rather not talk about it just yet.”

“Oh that’s fine, Claire.” Jamie reached for her hand, squeezing it tight. “Ye’ll see soon enough how great this place really is. It’s like a dream!”

“I’ve just woken up from a nightmare of my own,” Claire said, her shoulders drooping. Jamie lifted her chin with his fingers.

“Ye’ve nothin’ to be scarit of, Sassenach. Not so long as I’m wi’ ye,” he smiled, squeezing her hand again.

“You’re very kind, Jamie. Much kinder than I deserve,” Claire smiled. She had to admit that Jamie was rather cute and very charming. Perhaps this circus thing wouldn’t be so bad after all. “I’m feeling rather tired.”

“Och, of course,” Jamie smiled. “As I said, the bottom bunk can be yers.”

“Thank you, Jamie.” Claire let go of his hand and climbed into the bottom bunk, sighing as she slipped off her shoes. She winced as she felt the blisters, but tried to keep quiet as Jamie climbed up to the top bunk.

“I’m glad yer here, Sassenach,” he said a few minutes later as they both lay quietly. “I was wishin’ for a friend.”

Claire didn’t know what to say so she turned over on her side and let herself weep. Only hours before, she had buried her family and said goodbye to the life she knew and now she was lying in a bunk on a circus train.

Her eyes grew heavy and soon the tears stopped as she slipped into a deep dreamless slumber.

Chapter 2

Claire woke to the quiet whispers of Brian and Ellen Fraser. She didn’t want them to know she was awake just yet, so she kept her eyes shut tight and face buried in the pillow.

“What is she going to do here, Brian?” Ellen said softly and glanced over at Claire lying still asleep on the bottom bunk. “Ye ken fine well that this is no’ a proper life for a girl like her.”

“Jenny’s here is she no’?” Brian said.

“Aye,” Ellen clicked her tongue. “But she’s our daughter, and she didna have much say in the matter at the time if ye recall.”

Brian rubbed his hands over his face, sighing as he looked at the young girl.

“She’s got nowhere else to go, Ellen. Her parents and uncle died of the influenza,” he said softly and Claire realized that his own children must still be asleep above her.

“Christ,” Ellen muttered under her breath. “So she really did run away to the circus, the poor lass.”

“Ye ken just as well as I do what that grief feels like,” Brian said to his wife. “The poor lass is heartbroken, I’m sure we can find somethin’ here for her to do.”

Ellen leaned against her husband, silent for a moment before nodding. “We must help her.”

“Aye,” Brian kissed his wife’s forehead. “I’ll go and talk to the brothers. Let them know about our newest passenger. I’ll find ye and the bairns at breakfast after setup.”

A sliding door opened and closed and Brian Fraser left the small boxcar. Claire could hear sniffling from the corner and opened one eye to see Ellen wiping away tears that fell down her cheeks. Compassion stirred Claire to rise from her bed and she sat down beside Ellen on the small cot.

Without saying anything, she took Ellen’s hand in hers and squeezed it. The older woman smiled down at her, squeezing back.

“I’m glad that yer here, Claire,” Ellen smiled and ran her fingers softly over Claire’s cheek. “We’ll do the best we can to take care of ye, and make ye feel at home.”

Claire’s throat felt tight, and she knew that if she spoke she would burst into tears, so she wrapped her arms around Ellen and buried her head against the woman’s chest. There was nothing quite like a mother’s embrace — warm and soothing, like being wrapped in the arms of an angel.

The two of them sat there for a moment longer, quiet as they both grieved for their own loss. Claire looked up and finally released her arms from around Ellen when Jamie and Jenny both started to wake up.

“Morning my darlins,” Ellen said to her children.

“Morning mam,” Jenny said, wiping her eyes as she jumped out of bed, landing on her feet.

Jamie yawned and jumped down as well, rubbing his hands over his eyes. He blinked and looked at Claire, as if remembering that she was there. “Morning Mam, Claire,” he smiled softly.

“Are ye ready for yer first day at the circus, Sassenach?” Jamie asked, a grin spreading across his lips. It was infectious, and Claire found herself smiling too.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

++++++

“So, what exactly do you and Jenny do all day?” Claire asked as they walked over to where the large tents were being setup. It looked like quite a job to do. Men and women were lined up in a circle, each holding rope, and tall wooden beams were on their sides, ready to be lifted. Claire didn’t envy their job.

“We help wi’ anythin’ that needs to be done,” Jenny said. “I usually help wi’ the cookin’ and feedin’ everyone. Well, as much as our cook Mrs. Fitz will allow me to since I’m only fourteen. She’s Scottish as well!”

Jamie bumped against Claire, “And I help with the animals! No’ the big ones though. Mam willna let me near them.”

“That’s cause you’re a wee ten year old,” Jenny smirked and winked at Claire.

“I’m turning eleven next month!” Jamie scowled and kicked at a nearby rock. He hated to feel like the odd one out. “I usually just walk around and see who needs help. Since I am ten…” he sighed. “I can only do so much. The circus is a tough job, ye’ll see soon enough, Sassenach.”

“It sounds like it,” Claire agreed.

They found the food tent, which had already been set up the night before. The smell of fresh eggs and bacon made Claire’s stomach growl and they got into line. Claire looked around the tent and saw mostly women there, as the men were still setting up the larger tent that would house the main event.

“Are you the only other kids here?” Claire asked the Frasers. She hadn’t paid much attention to anything when she boarded the train last night.

“Aye,” Jamie nodded, scooping a large helping of eggs onto his plate. “We’re also the only family here too. The circus is no’ exactly a life most people choose to raise bairns in.”

“But, we havena been here our whole lives either,” Jenny added. “We were both born in Scotland. Ye see, we moved here five years ago.”

They found Ellen sitting at a table, a plate of food already in front of her.

“Good to see ye, Claire,” Ellen smiled gently. “I hope my bairns havena been tellin’ ye too many wild stories?”

“No,” Claire shook her head. “Jenny was just telling me about when you moved here.”

At that, Ellen froze, her complexion going pale and she looked over at her daughter who shook her head slightly.

“Ye’ll have to forgive me, Claire,” Ellen said. “I dinna like to talk about our life before the circus. Those times are better left in the past.”

“That’s all right,” Claire nodded. That was certainly how Claire felt now. She would much rather leave all of her pain and grief behind her, and try and start a new life. Granted, this wasn’t what she had in mind, but it was better than living in an orphanage.

A few minutes later, Brian Fraser came over with his own plate. He was sweaty from putting up the tent, but didn’t seem to mind. Most people here were covered in a thin layer of sweat and dirt. Living on train wasn’t exactly all that clean, Claire realized.

“After ye eat, Da, can ye come wi’ us to show Claire the lions?” Jamie asked his father.

“Aye,” Brian nodded, chowing down on piece of bacon. “But ye kids ken the drill. Dinna stand too close while we feed them.” He turned to look at Claire, “The lions will be hungry this mornin’ and it only takes almost gettin’ yer hand bit off once, to practice extreme caution around them.”

“I don’t want to get too close at all!” Claire squeaked. She had been around animals all her life, her father had been a veterinarian. But, he had never worked on a lion before — only house cats and dogs, with the occasional horse.

Once Brian was done with his breakfast, Ellen and Jenny stayed behind to help with the food and cleanup, while Brian, Jamie and Claire went to see the animals. They were still in their cages, but would be unloaded into their own tent before the show.

“We have the lions of course,” Jamie said excitedly, almost bouncing as they walked. “Then we have the horses, pigs, giraffes, one elephant, monkeys, zebras —“

“Zebras?!” Claire gasped.

“Oh yes,” Jamie grinned. “They’re my favorite after the lions. A bit like horses, really, which I also love, but the stripes are the best!”

Claire could immediately tell when the reached the animals cages, as the smell was quite strong. As was the loud roar that one of the lions gave as they approached. Another man was already there with a bucket full of meat, which the lion was eyeing and trying to get through the bars.

“Stay back here,” Brian instructed them before going to join the man.

“That’s auld Alec,” Jamie pointed. “He’s in charge of takin’ care of the animals.”

“All of them?” Claire said, awestruck.

“Aye, I help sometimes, but he does most of the work,” Jamie said. They watched from the trees as Alec and Brian began to feed the lions. Brian distracted the lions, moving them to one side of the cage, while Alec opened it up and set the bucket of meat inside. Then the lions pounced on their food and ate it ferociously.

“Wow,” Claire gasped, grabbing onto Jamie’s arm.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” Jamie grinned. “They’re no’ as scary after they’ve eaten. Later, I’ll show ye how to pet one. They can be quite friendly.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Claire laughed.

Brian returned to them, and auld Alec followed closely behind. “This is young Claire Beauchamp who has come to join us,” Brian introduced her.

“Tis nice to meet ye little lass,” Alec offered her his hand and she shook it.

“We need to find somethin’ for the lassie to do,” Brian quirked his brow.

“My father worked with animals,” Claire said shyly. “All kinds, but not any lions or elephants.”

“He was a veterinarian?” Alec asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, perhaps some of his skills rubbed off on ye lass,” Alex grinned. “How’d ye like to come wi’ me and see the rest of the animals? I could use all the help I could get!”

Claire looked over at Jamie who nodded encouragingly, as did Brian. Jamie stayed back with his father, leaving Claire to follow the animal carer. The thought of being around animals was a small comfort, at least she had vague knowledge of their needs.

She would never forget one warm afternoon when her father was seeing to a pregnant dog. Claire had stayed up with her father all night, comforting the dog as she gave birth, and making sure the puppies were seen after.

“Is she in pain, papa?” Claire asked, petting the head of the golden Labrador.

“A bit, my dear,” Henry Beauchamp replied. “Giving birth is no easy feat. But she’s a strong girl,” he stroked the dog’s bulging stomach. “It should be within the hour.”

Claire and her father had stayed up late into the night, watching over the dog. She belonged to a woman from town, but all Claire wanted to know was who would keep the puppies.

“How many puppies will she have?”

“I think perhaps four,” her father said as he moved his hand over the dog’s belly. “But we won’t know until she has them. Why are you asking my love?” He cocked a quizzical brow at his daughter.

“Oh, you know,” Claire grinned. “Maybe Mrs. Wilcox doesn’t want four new puppies. Maybe she only wants three!”

Her father laughed, “That’s something you can ask Mrs. Wilcox tomorrow. And of course, you’ll have to ask your mother.”

“I will, papa,” Claire smiled and went back to petting the dog’s head. “When I grow up, I want to do what you do. Being around animals all day must be fun.”

Henry rose to his feet to check that he had everything he needed — sutures for after the birth, plenty of towels. “It is rather fun, my dear. But, I will warn you, that it can be quite hard too.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s never easy telling someone that their pet is ill,” Henry frowned, coming back to join Claire on the ground. “Or feeling like you can’t do anything to help. Not everything can be solved with medicine, I’m afraid. But I try.”

At this, Claire felt sadness wash over her. As little girl, they had a pet cat, but he had passed away before they moved to Boston. She knew all too well what it was like to be told that your animal was sick.

“Well, you can still be there for someone and try and make them feel better,” Claire replied. “I think I still wanna do what you do.”

Henry reached out and smoothed back his daughter’s unruly curls. “Then you shall, my darling. You shall do whatever your heart desires.” He bent and kissed her forehead. “Your mother and I will always be here to support you.”

Auld Alec showed Claire all the animals. Claire was gobsmacked seeing so many creatures she had never seen before. She had heard about the circus coming into town, and thought about asking her parents to take her, but that was before…

“I bet yer Da never worked on zebras, aye?”

“No,” Claire shook her head as they approached one. “A few horses, but never a zebra.”

“They’re a lot like horses, of course,” Alec said and reached his hand through the bars. “Go ahead and reach yer hand in, she willna bite.”

Slowly, Claire approached the cage, trying to be careful as she reached her hand inside. The zebra nodded her head forward against Claire’s hand, letting her pet her. The zebra made a snorting sound, and Claire laughed.

“Does she have a name?”

“Zoe,” Alec smiled down at Claire. “Zoe the zebra.”

“Fitting,” Claire nuzzled Zoe’s nose.

As the morning rolled on, Claire stayed with Alec and watched as he interacted with every animal. Treating them with such care and gentleness, as if they weren’t really animals at all, but humans.

Finally, they got word that the animals were set to be moved into their proper tent. Men came to unhook their cages and wheeled them into the tent. The horses were let out to walk and stretch their legs, and Claire immediately gravitated to them.

She was barely half the height of the horse, so she came up to it carefully, not wanting to disturb it. Alec had tied them up to a nearby pole and they were munching on a trough full of hay.

“Here,” came a voice from behind her, making her jump. She turned to find Jamie, holding a bright red apple. “Donas loves these.”

“Thank you,” Claire took the apple from Jamie and walked around to the horse’s head, and held out the apple. He snorted, looking her up and down before placing his wet mouth on her hand and snatching the apple up. “He did like it!”

“Aye, told ye,” Jamie grinned. “I love the horses.” He came to stand beside her, reaching out a hand to rub over Donas’ nose. “Tha thu nad bheathach math,” Jamie said in a foreign tongue.

“What did you say?” Claire asked.

“Oh,” Jamie’s cheeks blushed. “I didna even realize I was speakin’. Twas Gaelic. Just callin’ him a fine creature. I find that speakin’ to the animals in Gaelic helps to calm them.”

“Would you teach me some then?” Claire asked. “It looks like I’ll be helping auld Alec with the animals!”

“That’s great!” Jamie smiled. “What I say to the horses is really just gibberish. No’ meant to even mean anythin’, but try sayin’ what I did — tha thu nad bheathach math.”

It was a language Claire had certainly never heard before. Her mother spoke a bit of French and had taught Claire a few words and phrases, but Gaelic was very different.

“Tha thu nad,” she said slowly. “Be-heath-ach math?”

“Let it roll off yer tongue,” Jamie said the phrase again.

“Tha thu nad bheathnach math,” Claire said again, this time getting it as closely as she could to how Jamie had said it. “Well, with practice, I think I’ll get there.”

“Aye, ye’ll do great,” Jamie smiled. “I’m glad ye found yer place, Sassenach. It’ll be nice to have ye here.”

“Yes,” Claire rubbed her hand along the side of Donas’ neck. “I think it will be rather nice here after all.”

She hadn’t even been at the circus for a full twenty-four hours, but already it was beginning to feel like home. The animals would be her new companions, as well as the Fraser’s who had welcomed her in as one of their own. Running away to the circus was the best idea Claire ever had.

Chapter 3

7 years later… New York City 1926

Claire thought often of her first night on the train — how alone she had felt and like she would never belong anywhere. It had been nearly seven years since then and the circus was now her home.

She wasn’t properly educated, but her love for animals kept her with a full time position with the Ringling Brothers. Jenny Fraser was her best friend, along with her younger brother Jamie, of course.

They traveled from city to city, amazing people with the greatest show on earth. Wonders and mystery surrounded them and Claire felt she was part of something truly spectacular.

There were times she thought she should find proper work, especially on her eighteenth birthday two years ago. Jamie had set up a picnic by the horses, Claire’s favorite of the wild menagerie.

“I think I need to leave, Jamie,” Claire said as she took a bite of a strawberry. They were sitting under the tent where all the animals were kept and it was rather smelly, but Claire had grown used to it over the years.

“Leave? Why would ye do that?” Jamie said as he reached for a cracker.  

“I don’t know,” Claire sighed. “I’m an twenty year old girl, traveling around with a circus, surely I can find a real job out there.”

Jamie grew quiet, his brows knitting together and he crossed his arms over his knees. “If you want to then you should.”

“I didn’t think you would want me to go,” Claire said.

“I don’t,” Jamie looked up at her. “But if ye want to go…”

Sighing, Claire laid back on the blanket, followed by Jamie. They had grown close over the years, able to tell each other anything and everything. He had always been there for her as he said he would be. On the anniversary of her parents death, he always made sure she was alright and was there to distract her if she needed — or to be a shoulder to cry on when she needed that.  

“It’s not like I want too… I just feel I should. Make a proper life.”

“Ye have a family here, Claire,” Jamie turned onto his side, lifting his head up on his elbow. “Ye ken that.”

“Of course,” she smiled. “It was just a silly thought, Jamie. Nothing more.”

“I hope so,” Jamie said as he brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. Something in Claire’s stomach fluttered whenever he touched her and she wanted him to do it again. Jamie was much taller than her now, and had grown into handsome young man.

“Sassenach,” Jamie said. “I dinna want ye to leave.”

“I won’t,” she whispered and then his lips pressed against hers. A small sound left her lips in surprise, but then she relaxed, wrapping her arms around his neck. Before she could really taste his lips, Jamie pulled back, rising quickly to his feet.

“I’m sorry, Claire, I dinna ken what came over me,” his face was bright red and he was turned away from her.

“It’s alright, Jamie,” Claire sat up, her heart hammering. She had always wondered what it would be like to kiss him, but he apparently regretted it.

“I shouldna have done that,” Jamie cursed in Gaelic and before Claire could say that she liked it, Jamie had stormed out of the tent, leaving Claire alone, sitting on the picnic blanket.

++++++

Neither of them had spoken of the kiss since then and that was two years ago. Claire wondered if Jamie even remembered it had happened or maybe it had been so bad, he had forgotten it.

Claire thought he liked her, but clearly he didn’t and things had gone back to how they were before. Claire knew she fell in love easily — she always had a crush and for a long time her crush had been Jamie.

She would watch him nearly every night in the show, holding up hoops for the lions to jump through, admiring the hard muscles of his body. He was just two years younger than her, but already he looked like a man.

It came to no surprise, however, just how fast she fell for a man one night when Claire was introduced to a young investor by the name of Philip Wylie. He was in New York to see the show and was interested in becoming a partner with the Brothers.

“You’ve been with the circus for seven years?” He asked her over a drink one night. The show had just closed and people were still loitering around. She knew he was an important man by the fine material of his suit. Claire wanted to impress him, and help the circus bring in more money.

“Yes,” she smiled, “Joined when I was just a young girl.”

“That’s quite impressive,” Philip smiled, his hand resting lightly on her knee. “What is it that you do?”

“I help with the animals. Taking care of them, checking that they’re alright to perform for the night,” she placed her hand over his. Philip was at nine years older than her, and already she was smitten.

They talked for the rest of the evening and he escorted her back to her train car, kissing her on the cheek and promising to see her soon.

Blushing, Claire placed her hand over where Philip’s lips had just been, sighing as she leaned against the wall. Just then, Jamie came through the door, still wearing his costume from the performance.

He glanced over at her, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his coat. “Ye look happy.”

“I am,” she smiled. “I’ve just had drinks with a man who wants to invest with the circus.”

Jamie stopped undressing and stared over at her, noticing the glossy look in her eye and the red tint to her cheeks. “Ye mean that stuffy old man I saw ye wi’?”

“He is not stuffy! And he is not old!” Claire picked up a shoe nearby and tossed it at him, narrowly missing his head. “He was kind and charming, much nicer than you,” she rolled her eyes.

“Och,” Jamie grunted and finished taking off his coat. “Just be careful wi’ him. Next thing ye know, he’ll be wantin’ to take ye away.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Claire crossed her arms, becoming annoyed with him.

“Well ye said ye wouldna leave,” Jamie turned to her. “Not for a proper job as ye say so I wouldna like to think ye’d leave for a man either.”

Claire’s mouth dropped open in shock and she crossed the small space to stand in front of Jamie, having to look up at him. “I’ve had a couple of drinks with the man, Jamie! Not accepted a proposal!”

“Forget I said anythin’,” Jamie ran his hands back through his hair, turning to leave to another car.

“Fine,” Claire huffed. “I’ll do just that, Jamie Fraser.”

He glanced at her, his eyes full of something Claire didn’t quite recognize before sliding the door closed and leaving her there on her own.

She knew it was important for Philip Wylie to want to invest in the circus, so perhaps she had flirted a bit too much and let him place his hands a little too high on her leg. But nothing would come of it, and besides… Claire would never leave the circus. Not for a real job, and certainly not for a man.

Outline for this fic:

Chapter 1: 1919. Claire’s background. She runs away to the circus, meets the Fraser’s

Chapter 2: 1919. Claire’s first day at the circus, she helps the Fraser’s and then Brian asks her what she’s good at. She tells him that her father was a vet and she was always around to help. He tells her they have a vet but she can be his young apprentice.

Chapter 3: 1926. Claire meets Philip Wylie. Two days later one of the animals gets sick and she stays overnight to keep it company. Jamie finds her and stays with her, on the other side of the train car. They talk more about what Claire would do if she left. Jamie tells Claire about Willie and how he died of the Spanish influenza when they came here. Claire asks him why they came to America, but he won’t talk about it.

Chapter 4: Jump forward two weeks later, and Claire has drinks again with Wylie. She kisses him and he puts his hands on her. Jamie sees them kissing and thinks that Wylie is trying to hurt Claire so he goes over and punches the guy. The next morning, Wylie shows up with a black eye and forgives Jamie, and says he’ll invest in the show on one condition - that Claire marries him.

Chapter 5: Claire feels like she has to marry Wylie to save the show and also she tells herself she loves him. Jamie is jealous, because he’s been in love with Claire since he first met her. That night he gets distracted at the show when he sees Wylie whispering into Claire’s ear and the lion scratches him. Jamie is rushed into the medical tent and the show continues. Claire helps tend to him and cries over him. Hours later as he is recovering, Claire tells Jamie that she’s going away with Wylie.

Chapter 6: Two weeks later, it’s Claire’s last day of the circus. Jamie tells her why they came to America. His father owed his uncles money, and after a time when Brian couldn’t pay, Colum wanted to show him a lesson. So he told one of his men to set fire to the small chicken coop, but a wind caught and it ended up burning down their house. They all escaped. Finally, she won’t have to be a girl on the run anymore. She will live with Wylie in New York City, and still be able to come to some of the shows on the east coast.

Chapter 7: Two months later. It’s two days before Claire’s wedding to Wylie, and she hears from him that the train crashed. He’s angry about losing money that he just invested and Claire keeps asking him if anyone is hurt. He finally tells her that six people died in a fire. Wylie tells Claire that she can’t go back to the circus, she left that behind and she belongs to him now. “I belong to nobody.” Claire leaves in search to find out if Jamie has died.

Chapter 8: Claire makes it to where the train car is. There’s still smoke from two days before and Claire finds Jenny who is crying. Claire thinks immediately that Jamie is dead, but Jenny is crying because one of the animals died. Claire cries with her and then asks about Jamie. Jenny tells her that all wounded men and women are at the hospital and so she takes her there. Claire finds Jamie and he’s badly wounded. Burns on his arms and legs. She sits with him and while he is asleep she tells him that she loves him and that she isn’t with Wylie anymore.

Chapter 9: Jamie starts to recover. He admits his feelings for Claire. He says they don’t have to get married just yet since they’re both young. He knows now that with a few of the train cars damaged, it’ll be weeks maybe months before they get back on the road. Jamie says that he wants to go to school and become a vet. Women aren’t allowed at school yet. They make plans to one day open up their own vet clinic.

Chapter 10: Once Jamie is out of the hospital, they walk back to the site of the crash. He tells Claire just how horrible it was. They both feel sad that this part of their lives is coming to an end. Jamie’s parents tell him that they will stay with the circus as long as they need. Jamie takes Claire back to the small hotel room and they make love for the first time with each other.

Epilogue: nine years later, Jamie has graduated from vet school and they have their first clinic open. They already have two children and live in the country, where Jamie travels to work. They have a whole farm of animals.  

[sassysweetstories]

Empress Part 7

Summary: You’re apart of the 100. You’re very bad-ass and don’t take shit from no-one. However, the longer you’re on earth, the more complicated things become.

Ship: Bellamy Blake x Fem!Reader, Dimitri!Grounder x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, crying, angst, swearing, minor smut, fighting, mentions of abuse, blood, gore, etc.

Notes: none of these gifs are mine, credit to owners. i realize not all of this is side by side accurate to the show, bare with me. i hope you enjoy!

Tagged: @bailey-hoover @kiralivelove @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw@anamcg317 @bellasett @queentiffanyyy @archer-whovian-violinist @beingmadinwonderland @princessisabelle19 @violence-and-velvet 

Third P.O.V

“Where’s (Y/n)?!” Bellamy yells, looking between the group of kids only to find that she wasn’t with them. Panic started to form deep beneath his skin, bubbling inside his heart. “I don’t know, I didn’t see her come back. I just saw her fall. Except when we went to look under the bridge, nothing was there.” Raven said, heaving for air after the long run from their immediate danger. Bellamy, still breathing hard, glared daggers at Finn. “You got something to say-” Even at the most inopportune times, Bellamy is more than willing to pick a fight when there isn’t a need for one. “YEAH! AND I TOLD YOU NO GUNS!” Finn screamed at Clarke to which she replied, “AND I TOLD YOU WE COULDN’T TRUST THE GROUNDERS AND I WAS RIGHT!” 

Raven nudged him in the shoulder, grabbing Finn’s attention. “AND WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME WHAT YOU WERE UP TO?!” He shook his head at one of his loves. “I TRIED, BUT YOU WERE TOO BUSY MAKING BULLETS FOR YOUR GUN!” Bellamy cut him off, barking. “YOU’RE LUCKY SHE BROUGHT THEM! THEY CAME THERE TO KILL YOU AND (Y/N)’S GONE OR PROBABLY DEAD RIGHT NOW!” Finn threw his hands in the air, shocked by Bellamy’s already sure mentality. “YOU DON’T KNOW THAT! JASPER FIRED THE FIRST SHOT!” Octavia glared at Jasper, barely giving him the time of day before saying shortly and walking off, “You ruined everything..” The rest of them head back to camp, leaving Bellamy and Clarke. "How are we gonna get (Y/n) back? I didn’t see if any of the grounders took her but if they did it’s definitely a good move on their part, and don’t say you don’t want to go looking for her.” 

Clarke demanded. There was no way in hell she was going to leave (Y/n) alone, not when there was a chance that she was still alive. There wasn’t a body to be found, so there must be hope. “We go searching for her in the morning. The grounders know this place better at nighttime, I’m sure. Though she can be an ass, we need her. Besides-” He pauses, looking off in the distance to see a large mass barreling towards the earth at an alarming rate. “The Arke..” Clarke says with awe, happy tears beginning to form in her eyes at the thought of being reunited with her mother. That is until she noticed how fast the drop-ship was coming. “Something’s wrong-” All of a sudden, the ship crashed directly into the ground, a large explosion knocking a series of trees down in the process. “No..” Clarke said as she clutched her stomach in pain, heart aching for the last piece of her family left. 

Your P.O.V

Peeling my eyes open, I see nothing but a giant blur. Nothing is clear and my head and left shoulder are throbbing for a reason unbeknownst to me. Groaning, I try to blink and clear my vision to get a better view of my surroundings. When I attempt to prop myself up with my elbows, I’m tugged back down by a pair of drapes that bind me to a bed. The bridge attack, I remember. I tug again but I’m not strong enough to break them, especially considering the amount of blood I’ve possibly lost. All I could remember was being shot and a large, black mass coming towards me. Now I’m strapped down to a bed in a barely lit cave, probably hundreds of miles away from camp, with little to no vision. I tug against the restraints again, cussing under my breath when they don’t budge. 

As my eyes begin to adjust, I notice a tall body in the corner by one of the candles. Instinctively I jolt back, ready to fight whomever dared to hurt me before flinching in pain. The body quickly got up and walked out of the cave, out of my view. The second he walks around the corner, I shake and shimmy under the restraints, heart beat rising as I try desperately to get out of them until three more large bodies emerge along with the previous man. Two flank on one side while the other one flanks on the opposite wall as a man walks in between them. My heart is thumping in my throat as I await for my inevitable doom but the closer the man comes towards me, the more I recognize his facial features. We look deep into each others eyes before it clicks. “Dimitri?” He lunges forward, wrapping me in his arms before releasing my bounds. I cling to him like he’s life support. If I was bound, was I really that unidentifiable? Had I got hurt that badly? 

When he takes off his mask, I’m finally able to see his features, traces of him that I oh so love. “H-How did you find me? H-How did you know where I was going to be?-” Looking over his shoulder at the four curious eyes. Automatically, I stand up straighter and I can’t help but ask. “Dimitri, who are these people?” When he looks back at them, I notice a faint smile making its way onto his face. Because of Dimitri, I’m finally easing up to people but not enough to not be wary of them. “These are my closest friends. Princessa, I’d like you to meet Ruker, Dante and Sloane.” They take off their masks and I take their appearances in. Each one of them resembles Dimitri’s ensemble, this time taking notice to a distinct light blue bandanna with a white sun and moon symbol etched into it. All of them wear it on their right sleeves, near their armpits. “Thank you for saving my life.” I say, honestly. They must be in an entirely different clan to the ones we currently have beef with. Sloane and Dante give me a warm smile in return while Ruker eyes me warily, as if I’m going to strike at any moment. 

He notices me watching him, almost as if I read his own thoughts. “You don’t trust me. And you have every right not to. My people have hurt a large portion of grounders. Your wariness is valid and I do not take it to heart. I only wish to convey to you that I am not like them in their attempts to cause destruction. We are people trying to survive, only running on the mentality that we’d kill our own for one more day of life. That kind of way is almost innate. And I hope that with time your view of me differs.” I say with a strong voice before looking to Dimitri. “Love, how did you find me? How did you know I was in trouble?” Sloane explains before he gets the chance, almost aching to actually talk to a sky-person. Sometimes I forget that I’m a practical alien to them, someone they are genuinely intrigued by. “Dimitri had been looking out for you for a while and we have people always listening in on the other clans, heard there was going to be a meeting between Skykru and Treekru. We came to make sure you were alright.” 

I look at her in awe and then back at Dimitri. “You’ve been looking out for me? But I’m suppose to be your enemy, why? You all-” I look to them. “took a huge risk and saved my life. You could’ve left me for dead.. I am forever in your dept.” I feel Dimitri’s gaze on me the whole time before he finally looks back up at his friends before saying, “Can yu bants osir kom talk gon a minute?” His friends almost bow for him and I can’t help but tilt my head in curiosity. Sloane and Dante smile at me on the way out and I can’t help but return the kind gesture while Ruker continues to look at me unevenly. Was that a customary thing for his people to do? When I turn back, Dimitri’s lips crash into mine. I almost forgot what he felt like, his body pressed up against mine. “I’m sorry-” He says pulling away. “I couldn’t help myself. I just missed you. I wanted to see you.” Dimitri says, shrugging. I noticed he acts more carefree when he’s wrapped around my arms. Even with his friends, there’s a slight difference, like he has to act a certain way but with me, he’s free. 

Placing my free hand atop his cheek, I can’t help but look into his deep, ocean blue eyes. “Thank you. Thank you for saving my life. That was a huge risk you took for me. And to get your friends involved, that mustn't have been easy. You sacrificed so much for me. I don’t know how to repay you..” He shook his head, pulling me closer to him but wary of my wound. “Princessa, I would give my life up for you. You haven’t to return anything to me. But I do have a question.” I sit up, leaning against the wall for support. I notice Dimitri’s demeanor change, face rough, almost warped into a scowl that I saw when we first met. But what he asks next is more than I’m ready for. “When we cleaned your wounds, I- we noticed wounds, ones that weren’t from the bridge attack.. These ones were cuts, bruises, burns, etc. Princessa, I wouldn’t ask unless it was necessary but you are my sonraun- er- my life. I can’t sleep knowing you aren’t safe.” 

Instinctively I wrap my arms around my body, pulling myself away from him, feeling as though I’m shrinking and honestly, that’s all I want to happen. I want to curl up into a ball and disappear. He’s found out my darkest secret and now it’s too late, he’ll throw me away like he did because I wasn’t enough. It’s like he notices my internal struggle. Dimitri gently takes my hands in his before bringing my chin up to look at his beautiful eyes. It takes me a second to realize that he’s crying and I can’t figure out as to why before he explains, “Princessa, you are my everything. I need to know that you are safe. I broke down when I first saw these bruises.. Nobody and I mean nobody has the right to hurt you that way. (Y/n).. please talk to me..” I don’t know what came over me but when I looked at him, I didn’t just see the boy I’ve grown to love, I saw his soul, one that I could trust wholeheartedly. And so I told him everything. I let it all out like a dam breaking, crumbling for the first time in years. 

I tell him about the years of abuse from my father after my mother was floated. He never told me why she was killed but he blamed all of it on me. Kept telling me that I was useless, that we didn’t have enough to survive and I didn’t deserve food or the right to breath. I told Dimitri about the years spent trying to survive night after night full of fear, most of which were actually spent at Mrs. Kane’s place. She let me work and sleep there most nights. I told him about her saving me, about assaulting the guards to get down to the ground so that I could be free of my father. And when I’m done, I sigh a breath of relief. Dimitri took to his knees, his waist in between my legs as he wrapped his arms around my hips, sobbing openly into my side. I am more relaxed in this moment than I’ve been my entire life. Running my hands through his choppy, blonde hair, he continues to cry for me. Nobody has ever reacted this way, but now that I think about it, he was the first besides Mrs. Kane I’ve actually told. 

I don’t know how long we’re sitting like this until Dimitri finally pulls away, resting his hands on my cheek, I try not to flinch. The reaction is innate at this point, and sadly Dimitri notices the slight gesture, pulling away only for me to grab his hands. “Hey, look at me-” I lift up his chin to meet my eyes. “I’m not flinching because of you. I’m flinching because of what he did. I know you. I trust you. I’m not afraid of you. I flinch because it’s innate.” He shakes his head, face red with anger and sadness. Pressing his soft lips against my knuckles, tears fall from his eyes as he blinks up at me. “Princessa, as long as I have breath in my lungs, I will not let anyone harm you. Ever. It breaks my heart and hurts my soul to see this much pain brought to you. But I will always protect you. Some grounders may think that you and your people are the enemy but I don’t give a damn what people think.” 

He lifts my legs up to rest on the bed while he sits on the floor, running his thumb up and down my wrist. “Sleep princessa, you will better in the morning. Though I’d love for you to stay, you need to go back to your people and fix things. They need a leader. They need you.” I nod, smiling at him before I start to fall asleep. Right before I slip into unconsciousness, a series of voices surround me. “Ya know for a sky-person, she looks angelic. I thought she’d have like eight eyes or something.” Dante says. I feel his eyes almost watching me in fascination as Dimitri never lets go of my hands. “She’s the strongest of them all. No doubt about that. I think I’ve got a new best girl friend.” Sloane says, her voice chipper but strong nonetheless. “Ruker, I know you’re wary of her but I need you to trust me when I say that I care deeply for her. She could be a very strong ally.” Dimitri confessed as Sloane gawked. “You’re not suggesting-” Dimitri cut her off. “I am.” It was the last thing I heard before slipping off into unconsciousness. 

The next morning I wake up feeling better than I had before, more awake and rejuvenated. My shoulder is still sore from the bridge attack but I don’t let it stop me from moving. I have a heart to heart with Dimitri once more before thanking his three friends and heading back home. There was no way in hell I was going to tell my people know about them, especially not when the time wasn’t right. When I arrive back at camp, I realize it’s much quieter than normal. Taking off the hood of my cloak, I wave down the gun-men who unlatch the door and let me back in. One of the boys, Trevor, who never seems to leave my side or stop worrying about me, updated me on what’s happened since I was gone. “Murphy’s back, infected by a virus from the grounders. We already have had three deaths because of it-” I’m gone not even a full day and everything’s gone to shit. I shake my head before making my over to the drop ship, nodding to those who thought I was dead. Some gawk and drop their materials in shock as I walk by looking nothing but powerful. 

“Clarke!” I shout upon seeing her nessled up on one of the cots. “(Y/n)!” She crokes, catching Finn, Octavia and Murphy’s attention. “Don’t come near me!” But it’s too late, I’m by her side and for some reason I know I won’t be infected. Octavia gives me a hug while I provide Finn with a respected nod. “How the hell did you get out of there? We were just going to send out a scouting troop but we were infected before we could.” I shake my head, laughing. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you. Trevor updated me on what’s happening. Is there a cure for this?” Octavia shook her head, looking at the sick bodies. “Lincoln said that there was no cure, that it wouldn’t last long but set the grounds for war-” She pauses and my eyes go wide. “They’re coming. The grounders are coming at first light.” 

I take a deep breath in through my nose, unaware of how much shit we were really in. Before I come up with a plan to get all of these sick kids out of here, three new people enter the drop-ship. Two guards caring a pale, bloody boy. It takes me a minute to realize that that pale boy is Bellamy. “Bellamy, oh my god!” I take him from the two boys, lifting him up on my own and rest him down on one of the free mats before he turns his head to cough up blood. Octavia is by his side in less than a second, crouching down to her knees to pat the sweat from his brow. “Hey, big brother.. It’s gonna be okay..” Bellamy looks between us, his left hand wrapping around mine while Octavia takes his right. “My two favorite girls.. “ My heart stops for a second. What did he mean by that. “-I’m really glad you’re both here.. You are both here, right? I’m not going crazy? You need to get out of here or you’ll get infected. (Y/n), we were going to send a scouting crew, I swear-” I shush him, actually smiling. “Blake, it’s alright. I also think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Maybe you’re not such an ass.” 

Despite the serious situation, he lets out a low chuckle that turned into a cough. “Don’t get use to it, your highness.” I shake my head at his sass, shifting my weight so I can help the others. “Alright, get some rest-” But as I’m about to move, Bellamy’s grip on my hand tightens and I try not to flinch, not that he would notice it. “Please, don’t leave me. Just sit with me, please.” Bellamy’s voice is so soft and innocent, for a second I think that the man in front of me is not the obnoxious Blake boy I’ve come to possess a love-hate relationship with. I decide to get comfy and take a free rag to cool his sweaty head as he drifted off into unconsciousness. “Ya know, Blake. You’re not so bad when you’re not being a dick. You’re actually kinda alright. I know that you’re trying to the right thing but sometimes the thing you might want to do might not be right. Get some rest.” 

Whilst unconscious and practically tied to Bellamy’s hand, I talk to Octavia. “So what did Lincoln tell you? What did he say exactly?” Octavia runs from one side of the room to the next, helping the dehydrated kids while explaining. “Lincoln said that they use the drug to set the playing field for war, a strategy to enable our defenses. When we’re at our lowest, which should be at dawn, they’ll attack. Finn and Jasper are heading out with a bomb that Raven created in hopes to destroy the bridge that they use to cross over to get us. If they pull it off, that’ll buy us some time to get everyone out of here.” Taking a quick scan around the room, I hadn’t realized that Finn had left the room. I’m also reminded to catch up with Raven, Monty and Jasper when I get the chance. If this is the last time I get to see them, I want to make sure I see them once more.

“Okay. Until they get back, we have to make sure everyone heals, or is at least up to par.” I replace my hand with a blanket so that I can help spread water, looking over my shoulder to talk to Octavia. “And what if worst comes to worst? What do we do then?” She sighs, patting one of the kids head. “We run or stick all of the kids in here. This drop-ship is pretty strong and should give us enough time to come up with a second plan.” I nod along to her words before going out to grab some more water, helping the infected back into the drop-ship for quarantine. Before I know it, it’s almost morning and Clarke and Bellamy are both up, leading people inside, looking much better than they had prior to yesterday. “Welcome back to the land of the living. You feeling better?” I ask Blake as he rubbed his chocolate brown eyes. The bags are gone and he has more color in his face than he had before. “Much better. I don’t remember if I asked, but how did you get out of that attack?” 

I open my mouth to come up with some bologna excuse that would be enough for him to accept until a loud explosion erupted from behind me. “Holy shit, Jasper did it.” Clarke said to the right of me while Bellamy gave me a faint smile as we looked up at a massive explosion erupting from the tree-line. I only hoped to god that Dimitri and his people weren’t harmed in the attack. The next two days pass by like a blur. I haven’t really been able to leave the camp to see Dimitri except when his owl comes to see me. He always comes when I’m by the fence at night, sending letters back and forth to one another. But besides that, I’ve been trying to pick up bits and pieces of what’s been around and too paranoid to have the grounders attack again. I’m so busy I almost don’t notice a fight that’s broken out and a small fire that’s burnt all of our food. Bellamy has taken the approach to break up the fight but we can’t use the water to put it out. “THAT WAS ALL OF OUR FOOD! WHAT THE HELL ARE WE SUPPOSE TO DO NOW?!” 

When the fire finally dimes down, I make my way over to Bellamy and Clarke. “We have to hunt, we don’t have a choice. We break everyone into groups, one gun per group, no later than nightfall.” Clarke smiles up at me, probably thinking the same thing I was. Bellamy glanced between the two of us, not satisfied with taking orders from us but in reality, I’m sure it was a weight being lifted from his shoulders. More than one opinion is better than one alone. I’m off with a group of my own, grabbing as much as we can find before heading back to camp. I thank my group for their hard work and then head over to Bellamy’s tent to update him on how much we brought and numerically how much more we might need. When I open the tent, my eyes go wide before forcing my gaze to the ground. Raven and Bellamy half naked, wrapping in each others arms, both their bodies covered from head to toe in sweat. 

For some reason, I feel nauseous and dizzy. “Oh- jeez- I’m sorry. I should have knocked- I’ll go-” I’m gone and across camp, back to my tent before Bellamy or Raven can track me down. I pace across my makeshift tent, breathing heavily and unsure as to why I was feeling this way. I was heated and mad for some reason. Why would Bellamy’s sex life have anything to do with how I’m feeling? Maybe everything with the grounders is all getting to my head. I’m breathing heavily despite the fact that I have no reason to be winded. For some reason, I can’t pull the image of Raven and Bellamy together out of my head. However I’m not in there for long before Octavia comes in, telling me that both Finn and Clarke have been gone for far too long from hunting. 

Good, a distraction. I thought to myself before seeing Raven and Bellamy tag along. Raven gives me a respectful smile, as if she were trying to justify something to me. The longer I look at her, the more it makes sense. She didn’t sleep with Bellamy because she liked him, she wanted to get over the heartbreak of Finn. But why would she care, why would I care? I don’t have feelings for him? She walks with Octavia while I’m regretfully stuck with Bellamy. He carries his gun like it’s life support and I refuse to meet his strong gaze that seems to stair directly into my soul. His strong gaze makes me feel uneasy which is odd because I’m usually use to such facial reactions. But I can’t deal with it, walking in on such an intimate moment, whether he thought it was that or not. 

“You won’t look at me.” He says and I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Congrats, Sherlock. You’ve once again stated the obvious. Do you want a reward, or something?” Bellamy grabs my arm to get my attention and I try not to flinch at the sudden action, it’s not hard but it was definitely something I wasn’t ready for. “Why won’t you look at me? See something you like?” He has the audacity to wink and wiggle his brows up and down suggestively. This time I glare up at him with a fiery passion before ripping my arm out of his grasp. “Get your head out of your ass, Blake. You’re not my type. I won’t look at you because some people actually see sex as something important, not something to be thrown around willy nilly but at the end of the day it is your choice. I do not judge, I don’t have the right. Your sex life, or there lack of, has nothing to do with me, and I’d like to keep it that way. And finally, Bellamy Blake, I wouldn’t touch you with a thirty-nine and a half foot pole.” 

I march ahead of him, already exhausted with our childish bickering. “You sure about that, princess?” When he says it, I have swallow back down the bile that’s started to form. It sounds so much better coming from Dimitri’s soft lips rather than his. “It’s queen to you. You, Blake, remind me a Russian doll, full of yourself.” He’s about to retort but his radio cut him off. “There’s someone in the bushes.” Raven says, quietly. For a moment, we forget about out love/hate relationship. My heart is thumping out of my chest at every step I take, bow and arrow strung at the ready. Octavia and Raven get to the location first before we run directly into Miles, the other kid who was with Clarke and Finn when they ventured out. I kneel down and lift his head up before feeding him some of my leftover water. There’s an arrow wedged in-between his arm-pit and shoulder, along with one just above his knee, burred deep in his left thigh. “Miles, where are they? Clarke and Finn?” Raven asks with hope in her eyes.

Miles barely gets the words out, but I almost wish he hadn’t, maybe then the truth wouldn’t have been set in stone the way it now feels. “G-Grounders..took them..” I watch as all three of their faces go from their bright color to a cold, clammy white. “Take it easy. We have to get him back to camp.” Bellamy says, and if I’m being honest, I’m surprised that it comes from him. Ninety-five percent of the time, I think that he doesn’t possess a heart whatsoever. “Bell, what about Clarke and Finn?” Octavia asks, looking between her brother and I for an answer. I’m to busy dipping some leftover alcohol onto his wounds to respond, and honestly I don’t know what to do. Raven gets up, looking pale and to the point of tears and I force my gaze away when Bellamy follows her lead, speaking so softly, it was almost inaudible. “Raven, I’m sorry..” 

The way he says it makes me think he’s got something to do with it, even though he doesn’t. Bellamy has a bad habit of feeling guilty for things that’ve happen that he has no reason to be guilty for. “We need to make a stretcher-” Raven says before walking off to do just that. Octavia and I work on Miles’ injuries while Bellamy radios Monty. “Monty, we’re heading home, do you copy?” When he doesn’t respond right away, Bellamy gives me a worried glance. “Monty?!” This time Raven and Octavia stop what they’re doing to look at the radio, waiting for a response, only for it to be silence. He keeps asking over and over again but there’s nothing but silence. We carry Miles back to camp and I can’t help but smile at the sight of one of my two favorite boys. “(Y/n), you’re back!” Jasper exclaims before giving me a warm bear hug. 

Everyone around him watches in shock as I hug him back, not use to me displaying affection of any sorts. “Good to see you too, Jasper.” The longer I’m here, the more I realize that I’m like a mother to many of the kids here, matching Bellamy’s age, I’m one of the oldest, too. “You hear anything else about Monty?” He asks with hope in his eyes which quickly vanishes upon seeing my sad expression. “I’m sorry, Jasper. I haven’t heard anything yet since I returned with Bellamy, Raven and Octavia. But if I know them, they’re tough as hell. Monty’s a genius, Clarke is smart and Finn is a phenomenal tracker. If I can get out of the grounders grasp, then I know they can, too. We’ll go searching for them in the morning, I promise.” He nods, thanking me before helping Raven out with the explosives. Just when nobodies looking, I sneak right back out of camp. 

Nobody else is going to die, not Clarke, not Finn and not Monty. Though it’s quite dark and ominous out, I feel more alive than ever. My heartbeat is pumping so loudly I’m afraid someone would hear it. Just over the hills, I notice two faint flickers of light, bright enough that it gives off a orange-ish yellow hue around the area. As I creep closer, my suspicions are confirmed. A grounder group with Clarke chained in the middle, about twenty men along with the woman Clarke and I spoke to, Anya, I believe, at the bridge. I watch as another man comes from the left flank, jumping from the hill to yell down at her though it’s not loud enough for me to hear. Once done bringing down one of the many grounder leaders with just his words, he takes a step forwards towards Clarke with the intent to kill, stopping abruptly when a light from across the mountains lights up and fear washes over both Tristan, I believe, and Anya’s eyes before they leave Clarke alone for one of Anya’s soldiers to kill. 

Once she’s gone, I make my way over to Clarke as one of the grounders stalks towards her, knife in hand. The rest of the grounders leave back down to the river. The second they do, I strike down, kicking him in the side before punching him square in the jaw. He stumbles back, obviously not ready for the attack before pulling his hand up, almost in attempt to stop me. Before I can hit him again, he peels off his mask and I can’t help but gasp. “Lincoln?” Grazing his jaw with his right hand, he scoffs. “You have a mean right hook. Come quickly. Finn’s not far. Help me carry Clarke.” I nod along to his words, wrapping myself in the cloak to disguise my face before lifting Clarke up and onto his horse, jumping on right after. I’m not sure how far we’ve ridden but before I know it, we stop at the highest hill where one of the fires burns brightly. 

Once Lincoln unties Clarke’s bounds before she runs over to Finn. When they look back at us, I remove my cloak when he takes off his mask. “Lincoln? (Y/n)?” I smile and pull Clarke into a warm hug. “It’s good to see you too. We have to go. Now.” With a quick slap the hip, the horse is off in the other direction while we run back to camp towards somewhere safe. My heart is thumping in my throat and I can barely breath, but for some reason I feel more energetic and alive than ever. I’m more adrenaline than I am human at this point as we run from possible death. I can hear the grounders barreling towards us from behind, not close enough for them to reach but not far enough either. Lincoln pushes away a set of leaves, leading to a tunnel. Clarke and Finn follow but I don’t. “I’m meet you guys back at camp. I need to go somewhere first.” They’re about to decline but I’m too persistent. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I know these woods better than you think. Thank you, Lincoln.” 

I say to him before running in the opposite direction, away from both my friends and my enemies. Heading to the one place that might have exactly what I need that might slow the grounders down, a poison, something. However as I arrived at Dimitri’s cave, a group of grounders, ones I hadn’t recognized, were attacking another who wore a bright blue bandanna that wrapped around his shoulder. My eyes go wide at the realization that that little boy was from Dimitri’s clan. The older grounders are yelling at him in their language and I can only pick up a few words here and there before I wrap my scarf around my face and prepare to attack. Drawing my bow and arrow, I fire at their shoulders, catching the two off guard as they plummet to the ground. Jumping from atop one of the hills, I crash down with my sword, screaming. Despite my recent injury, I move swiftly, grunting here and there when one of them hits my shoulder. 

The fight doesn’t last long before I’m standing in front of the young boy. I put my weapon away and remove my mask to let him look at my warm eyes. “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Let’s get you home-” I say, crouching down for him to take my hand. His eyes shift from the grounders bodies over my shoulder and then back at me, slowly lacing our fingers together. The more I look at him, the younger he looks. Roughly less than the age of eight. I’m not sure where we’re going but he leads the way, practically running to the point where I have to skip after him. He refuses to let go of my hand the entire way before we stop right in front of a set of trees and I don’t go any farther despite the fact that he wants me to come with him. I crouch down and rest my hand on his cheek. “You need to go home to your family, okay? I need to go back to mine. Stay safe, alright?” 

I stand up to let him go but before I get the chance to move, he wraps his arms around my body before running the extra mile home. The entire run back to camp, I think solely about that boy and what he was doing out there at night. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that he looked quite similar to Dimitri, except his hair was dirty blonde instead of Dimitri’s natural color. I remembered being that scared little kid, never knowing how to defend myself or fight until I forced myself to learn. I grimace at the memory before arriving back home. Octavia’s at my side before I know it, Bellamy not too far from us. “Murphy’s got a gun and has Jasper trapped in the drop-ship. Bellamy’s agreed to trade himself.” Before I can stop him, he’s already halfway up the ramp. I don’t know what made me do what I’m about to do but I run in the opposite direction and jump over the gate before it closes, hitting the tarp and the ground with a loud, painful thud before standing up to meet the end of a gun. “How nice of you to join us, princess.” Murphy says with a wicked grin while another boy smiles up at me. Trevor. 

(I hope you guys liked it!! Please comment below! I really appreciate the feedback!) 

[hmhteen]

HMH Teen Teasers: THE SPECIAL ONES by Em Bailey

If you like your summer with a side of spooky, psychologically thrillers, then THE SPECIAL ONES is the book for you. It’s eerie story about a cult where ‘The Special Ones’ are believed to be reincarnated from a photograph and inhabit specific roles—and worshipped on the internet by followers they can never meet or cry out to for help. And of course, like any good psych thriller, there’s a big twist: the main character, who goes by the name of Esther, manages to escape...and that’s when the reader is introduced to the POV of her mysterious captor, and learn why this cult was founded in the first place. 

You can read the first two chapters of THE SPECIAL ONES below! 

CHAPTER ONE

I hear the main gate slam closed, and I just know from the sound of it that Harry has news. He must have banged the gate really hard, as it’s a fair distance from the farmhouse. He would do that, I’m sure, only if he was sending me a message. He must have finally found our new Lucille. Relief floods me. We’ve never gone this long without one before, not in the whole time I’ve been here. Finally, we’ll have some good news for him.

       I’ve drawn the heavy velvet curtains on the windows, but the heat creeps in around the edges anyway. Beneath my corset and layers of petticoats, my body sweats. A heavy wind rattles the windows. Bushfire weather—that’s how my father would’ve described it. Fire was something my parents worried about a lot when we lived in our old house, surrounded by trees.

       Fire. Family. My old home. Things I don’t let myself think about in here.

       It will take Harry at least five minutes to cover the expanse from the gate to the farmhouse—longer if Felicity spots him coming—but even so, I long to gather up my skirts and dash out of the parlor, outside, to the very edge of the front veranda, and wait for him to come into view. I love watching Harry walk. There’s something so reassuring about his unhurried lope.

       But I am the Esther, and Esther doesn’t dash. Her remembering book is very clear about that. Esther’s movements are dignified, considered—especially in the parlor. Esther would never let excitement or nervousness show, or waste time watching people walk.

       Sometimes being Esther feels like wearing a Halloween costume. One that doesn’t fit. One I can’t ever take off.

       With great effort I stay in my chair, listening to the daytime noises of the farmhouse and continuing with my work. On the little wooden table beside me are the socks for darning. Clothing repairs are normally the Lucille’s task, but the mending has piled up to the point where it can’t wait any longer. The sock I’m currently working on is one of Harry’s and it has his smell. Hay, earth, sun. As I push the needle through the fabric, I picture him striding across the farm toward me, coming closer and closer. Past the chickens and the area where the crops grow. Past the peach tree completely covered, the Felicity assures me, with promising green nubbles of fruit. Then, finally, between the two lemon-scented gum trees standing like border guards where the farm officially ends and the kitchen garden begins.

       When I know Harry must be close, I strain to hear his steps—and yes, there they are. Purposeful but not rushed, matching the steady rhythm of his breath.

       I am always edgy when Harry leaves the farm. When I first arrived here, he made it clear that the farm was the only safe place left in the world. Beyond the front gate were innumerable dangers. Security guards, police officers, doctors, teachers, parents, all lying in wait to force us back into lives that didn’t really belong to us. And even though I don’t believe this anymore—not really—I’m always relieved each time Harry returns safely.

       The handle of the front door rattles as it turns. There are footsteps in the hallway and finally the parlor door swings open. Harry fills the doorway as air and light flood the dark, stuffy space. He’s breathing deeply, and when I sneak a quick glance at him, I notice that his wheat-colored hair forms damp swirls against his forehead. It’s hardly surprising, considering the thick trousers and woolen jacket he’s wearing.

       I put down the sock and hurry (while trying to appear not to hurry) over to the sideboard, where I have a carafe of water waiting. My hand trembles as I pour a glass for Harry.

       Slow, considered movements, I remind myself. He is probably watching us right now, and he mustn’t suspect how tense I am.

       Outside the window, the generator whirs. I have questions, lots of them, but I keep them in check. Conversations between Harry and Esther must be as formal as a script. I hand the glass of water to Harry, careful not to let our fingers touch or our eyes meet. “Did you see Lucille today?”

       My voice is smooth and calm and perfectly Esther, but I’m sure Harry senses my nervousness. Last time, the Lucille was renewed in four days. This time it’s been almost three weeks. The followers—especially Lucille’s—keep asking how much longer it will be before they see her again. And it’s only a matter of time before he loses patience with us.

       Harry gulps down the water. “Yes,” he says when he’s finished. “I saw her.”

       Although it’s the answer I was expecting, I can barely keep from flinging my arms around Harry’s neck. I refill his glass to give myself time to regain composure. If any of the followers are watching, they need to see that we have everything under control—that Lucille has simply gone away and will come back soon, just like she has before.

       “How is she?” I ask.

       Two dents appear on Harry’s forehead, as though invisible fingers have pressed into his skin. The impressions are gone in an instant, but I know what they mean. When normal forms of communication are restricted, you learn to gather information in other ways. That slight frown means there are changes to the Lucille. Significant ones.

       “Her hair seems straighter, and a little lighter.” Like me, Harry knows better than to let his concerns show in his voice. “She’s obviously been spending some time in the sun.” Automatically, my eyes flick over to the photograph above the mantelpiece. Gilt-framed. Dominant. The image itself is a little blurry—as if it’s been enlarged—but it’s still clear enough. Four figures stand on the veranda of an old stone farmhouse. Three of them are girls in gloves and long white dresses.

       The smallest girl in the photo has thick braids and a cupid’s kiss of a face. Above her, written in old-fashioned cursive, is a name: Felicity.

       Near her is a male, and his beard makes him look older than he really is, which is probably no more than nineteen. He has one arm protectively around Felicity, his shoulders seeming so broad compared with her tiny child’s frame. Harry.

       To his left is a girl with dark curls and a curvy figure. Her chin is held up in a way that could be proud or defiant, or both. Lucille.

       The fourth figure, standing near the front door, is a tall, thin girl with her hands clasped. Her expression is smooth and unreadable. That’s me. Esther.

       Screwed into the wall beneath the photograph is a little brass plate. I can’t read the engraving from here, but I know what it says. The Special Ones.

       The followers often ask me the same question during evening chat:

What were you thinking about when that photograph was taken?

       At first the question frightened me so much I could barely type a reply. I was convinced they’d picked me as an impostor. That they already suspected the girl in the photo was a total stranger to me.

It’s hard to remember exactly.

       My hands would shake as I typed my reply.

It was so long ago.

       Not a great answer, I knew that. But no one ever challenged me about my response and gradually I became more confident. My answers improved.

When that photograph was taken, I was thinking about how I, as a Special One, can help to guide you, my loyal follower, through your times of need.

       Sometimes I’d even twist the question around, making it seem as though I were doing the testing.

What do you think I was thinking?

       “The sun is good for the soul, and its effects on Lucille will soon fade once she’s back here,” Harry says mildly now. “And her hair will right itself too.”

       I turn to find that he has moved from the doorway and is standing near me now, also looking at the photograph. I nod in reply. Of course, we both know that the Lucille’s hair won’t really right itself, but at least changing straight, fair hair into dark curls will be easy compared with other transformations I’ve had to make—like the time I had to turn a Felicity’s short, dark frizz into smooth, plaitable blondness. Besides, the greatest challenges with reintroducing a Special One have nothing to do with physical appearance.

       “Otherwise, she’s just as she was,” Harry adds, draining another glass of water.

I take this to mean that her height and weight are pretty accurate, which is good news. In Lucille’s remembering book, she is described as being taller than Felicity but shorter than Esther. She needs to be soft, but in no way plump.

       “And she has that same look in her eye.”

       There’s the slightest hint of a chuckle in Harry’s voice as he says this. The Lucilles always have a particular expression. In her book, this is described as “being filled with strong emotion,” but I have always secretly thought of it as sulky and troublesome. I suspect Harry feels the same. No matter what the look is, the Lucille needs to have it. That expression is what the followers will be expecting.

       Harry tips his glass toward me as I pour, the water forming a connecting arc between us.

       “Where did you find her?” I ask.

       “In a food court, eating a hot dog and chips,” says Harry.

       “Poison,” I say primly, but my mouth salivates. When was the last time I ate anything like that? Probably when Mum took me to the local shopping center, soon after we’d moved. She was hoping, I guess, that the outing would make me see the benefits of our new location. But what fun could I possibly have without the friends I’d left a thousand kilometers behind? Mum dragged me into shops, where I steadfastly refused to try on anything, and then I picked, stony-faced, at the lunch she bought me.

       “Poison,” agrees Harry, but I think I catch the tail end of a smile on his face before I hastily look down.

       Harry and Esther are not allowed to look directly at each other for more than three seconds at a time. What does Harry make of me in those brief glances? Does he just see Esther—her neat hair, her tightly corseted body, her controlled face? I used to hope that he would see more, or at least sense the things buried deep inside. But then I wondered if this was the wrong thing to wish for. Maybe Harry wouldn’t like the real me. Esther is capable, strong. She gets on with things without complaint. She doesn’t freak out at the sight of blood or cry when things don’t go her way. In other words, she’s nothing like I am inside.

       There’s a long silence until, with a start, I remember that there’s another question I’m expected to ask. The most important one, even though I already know the answer.

       “Does Lucille remember who she is?”

       In my peripheral vision, I see Harry shake his head. “I would say she’s completely forgotten everything.”

       “Awareness is sometimes slow to dawn,” I recite. “After all, it’s been a long time since Lucille’s old form left us. It’s not surprising that she’s forgotten a few things.”

       Harry nods. “The renewal process can leave the mind temporarily confused,” he says. Somehow Harry can make the stiffest of his mandatory phrases sound natural, even comforting. “Once she is safe at home with us, she will soon remember.”

       I suddenly hear Felicity’s voice, wafting in on the hot northerly wind. She’s out in the garden, singing a jumbled song. “Merrily we roll along, on a cold and frosty morning.” Most songs are forbidden in here, of course, and I am not even allowed to hum—but the Felicity is expected to sing nursery rhymes. For some reason, though, this particular Felicity always gets the words wrong. It makes me uneasy. It’s the sort of thing that could make him very easily upset.

       The song stops and a plaintive voice calls out. “Is Harry home yet?”

       Harry gives a low laugh and I smile too. The Felicitys are always so sweet. It’s hard not to get attached.

       “Yeah, I’m home, Flick,” Harry calls. “I’ll come right out.” He turns to me. I keep my eyes firmly on the ground, although the urge to look at him is always strongest when he’s about to leave. “I’ll take her down to the farm and get some ingredients for dinner. Today’s word was .º.º.º?”

       “Rejoice.”

       It worries me that Harry so often forgets the guiding word, as it is supposed to shape everything we do, think, and feel each day. In our remembering books it says that the guiding words form the basis of the teachings for our followers; that he watches us always, recording everything we do and say, and then the most inspirational—the most Special—moments of our lives are made into short films from which our followers can learn.

       When I received the guiding word this morning, there wasn’t much to rejoice about. But the news about the Lucille has changed things.

       “Rejoice—that means meat, if you ask me,” says Harry thoughtfully. “No chance of getting a rabbit at this time of day, though. How about a chicken?”

       I hesitate. We have only five chickens left and their eggs are very valuable. I should say no. Esther is supposed to restrain this kind of extravagance, and it’s really too hot for roasting anyway. But the idea of eating fresh meat rather than the boiled potatoes and green sauce I’d been planning is too tempting to resist. Plus, there’s the added thrill of saying yes to Harry.

       “I’ll make some mash to go with it,” I say, and look at Harry just long enough to see his eyes crinkling at the corners.

       “Perfect.” He strides off, whistling, and I feel a pang, knowing I’ll be alone in the farmhouse again.

       “Make sure she wears her hat,” I call after him. The Felicity in the photograph has very pale skin. “And don’t let her on that peach tree.”

       I don’t remember which Felicity broke the tree-climbing rule—the first, or the second?—but I’ll never forget her punishment. The image of that tiny figure, lashed to the peach tree for an entire day, crying out for water and forgiveness, still flashes into my mind sometimes.

       I doubt Harry will forget it either. He was the one who had to tie her to the tree in the first place.

       I hear Felicity squeal with joy as Harry appears outside and I picture her flinging herself on him, as though it’s been months since she saw him and not just a few hours. I’m glad she can do this with Harry. A child her age needs physical contact—hugs, kisses, tickles—but Esther is not allowed to touch the other Special Ones, and the Lucilles just don’t do that sort of thing.

       In the kitchen I catch sight of them through the window, Felicity holding Harry’s hand as they make their way past the gum trees. A little while later a squawking, flapping noise rises on the wind, gaining rapidly in tempo and intensity until it is suddenly cut short.

       Harry’s news has filled me with optimism. There is still a lot to do, but I feel strong and capable, energized despite the heat. Soon there will be four Special Ones back here again. This means another person to share the work, to speak with the followers, and to keep him happy.

       Part of me remains tense, though, because what lies ahead is daunting. Planning for a kidnapping is never easy, even when you’ve done it as many times as I have.

CHAPTER TWO

In our remembering books, it’s called “collection.” It’s described in a way that makes the whole process sound very straightforward—as if all we’re doing is bringing someone back to where they belong. What you’d do with anything that’s gone missing and has turned up in the wrong place. Like a puppy that’s wandered into a neighbor’s yard, for instance. Or an umbrella left on a train.

       As I go about my afternoon chores, I start a mental list of what needs to be done. The most pressing thing is to start preparing Felicity for what to expect. She has been with us for only six months—in her “present form”—and hasn’t gone through a collection before, other than her own and that’s completely different. It’s vital that everyone reacts the correct way when a Special One rejoins the group.

       I’m peeling potatoes at the kitchen table when Harry and Felicity return late in the afternoon. Felicity proudly carries the wicker basket filled with freshly harvested items from the kitchen garden: radishes, baby carrots, silverbeet. The scent of outside clings to them.

       Harry triumphantly holds up the headless chicken. “Dinner!” Blood drips onto the stone floor.

       “It’s Martha,” Felicity informs me. “She hardly laid any eggs, so it’s fair, really.”

       “Thank you.” I take the carcass and use some string Harry gives me to hang it up over a pan to let it drain. We had chickens in the backyard of our old house in the country, but they were pets. The idea of eating them would’ve horrified me. Now I find myself thinking of all the ways I can use this small chicken. The feathers can plump up our pillows. The fat can be used for cooking. The bones will be boiled to make stock for soup, and once they’re removed and dried, I’ll grind them into a powder for my medicines. Nothing is wasted here.

       Our followers will enjoy this, no doubt, if the scene makes it into one of the teaching films. Your life seems so authentic, so sustainable and honest, the followers write to me. I never correct them, of course.

       Martha’s blood splashes rhythmically into the pan. Funny to think that I used to be fussy about my food. No gristle, no fat, nothing that looked too much like the creature it came from. One lean winter in here and all that changed. Now I eat everything. Eels from the dam, frogs, grubs. Once I even fried up a snake that Harry killed on the veranda steps. It’s surprising how anything can taste good if you’re hungry enough.

       Outside the window, the leaves of the eucalyptuses shimmer silver-white in the late afternoon sun. Felicity slides into one of the heavy wooden chairs that Harry made the first year I was here and watches as I sort through the vegetables. The lettuces are caterpillar-holed but the radishes are red and perfect. Radishes always grow well here for some reason.

       “Any news?” Felicity asks me. She knows that Harry has been searching for the Lucille, but she isn’t allowed to speak to him about it. Questions of this nature must be directed to Esther alone.

       I take a breath and plaster on a smile, making sure I’m turned toward the main camera on the wall. “Yes. Good news!”

       Felicity sits up straight. “Lucille’s coming back?”

       “Yes. Wonderful, isn’t it?”

       “I’m glad. Really, really glad,” says Felicity, wrapping herself in her arms.

       The Felicitys and the Lucilles are generally not very close—the age gap is too big for them to be friends, and the Lucilles are not exactly the motherly type—but I understand why Felicity is pleased. It feels unbalanced here when one of us is missing. Like a table minus a leg.

       Now my smile is genuine. “Me too.”

       I send Felicity to fill a bucket with water from the well. “It’s a bit murky,” she says apologetically when she brings the pail into the kitchen. She’s right—the water is muddy, a sign the well’s getting low. It’s concerning, but now is not the time to dwell on this particular issue.

       I plunge the vegetables into the water and begin to wash them. “Now, Felicity,” I say. “You know that Lucille may seem a little confused when she first returns.”

       “Will she?” says Felicity. “Why?”

       A small black beetle loses its grip on a leaf and begins swimming in desperate circles. I fish it out and deposit it onto the windowsill. It’s nice to be able to save a life once in a while.

       Meanwhile, Harry picks up his cue. “Remember the last time Lucille was renewed, Esther?” he says. “She didn’t remember any of our names when she came back—even her own!” He shakes his head as if this were simply a funny anecdote.

       Felicity’s face scrunches. “I don’t remember Lucille going away before. Do you mean before I got here?”

       Her mistake makes me freeze, but Felicity doesn’t realize she’s slipped up. Even worse, I see another question forming on her lips. Harry lunges at her and she screams as he scoops her up and tickles her with a furious intensity, making her small body squirm.

       “Oh, Flick, you’re such a joker!” Harry says loudly. “Pretending you don’t remember the last time Lucille was renewed. And pretending that you haven’t always been here!”

       Felicity wriggles away from Harry and gives him a reproachful look. “That’s more ouchy than tickly, Harry.”

       But she doesn’t say anything more. Either she’s forgotten the topic or she’s remembered that before is a subject she should avoid.

       When the vegetables are clean, I reward Felicity with the biggest and reddest of the radishes and then begin to slice. My favorite knife is the one Harry gave me last year, on the first anniversary of my arrival, though of course we couldn’t tell followers it was my first anniversary—they think I have always been here, just like Felicity. Harry carved the handle himself, so touching the knife is almost like touching him.

       I glance at Felicity to find her watching me again, the radish still in her hand. She gives me a smile, the same one she uses when we’re being verified. The sort you put on when you know someone is watching you. I give her the same smile back.

       I wish I could reach over and stroke her hair, reassure her that everything will be fine. But I can’t, and instead I find myself noticing the things about her that need attention. There’s a rip at the hem of her pinafore, and her dark roots are starting to show again. My insides pinch. More things to do. “We all feel a little out of sorts without our Lucille,” I say, speaking clearly so the mikes can pick up every word. “That’s why it’s such good news that she’ll return soon.”

       Felicity makes tiny mouselike marks in the white flesh of the radish. “When will she be here?” she asks.

       “Tomorrow,” says Harry, as if there’s no possibility of anything going wrong. Maybe it’s genuinely how he feels. I wish I felt that confident.

       “I’m going to make up a song for her,” Felicity announces. “A welcome-home song.”

       “What a lovely idea! That will make her feel glad to be back,” I say, then take the opportunity to sneak in another little warning. “And before we know it—maybe in just a week or two—Lucille will be back to her old self again.”

       For a second I catch Harry’s eyes, and I’m pretty sure I see in them the same thing I’m thinking.

       Let’s hope so. For everyone’s sake.

                                                              ***

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