Dragon Journal (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dragonjournal) wrote2010-10-02 08:05 pm
dragonjournal) wrote2010-10-02 08:05 pm
Entry tags:
Bingo SPAM #5
Title: Family Ties
Prompt: Slavery
Rating: PG-13
Content Note/Warnings: SLAVERY. Nothing too explicit, but it’s not a happy time.
Hands reached through the bars. She flinched back until she recognized the filthy broken nails. Her own fingers reached out to brush against them. “Kenny?”
“I’m here, Max.” His voice sounded rough, like he’d been screaming.
Had he been? The halls echoed oddly and every time someone screamed, she was just thankful that it hadn’t been her.
Shackles around her wrists kept her confined to a far corner of the cell. If she stretched, though, she was just tall enough to reach toward the bars. Kenny had more room to move. He’d been here longer, had been broken.
Max kept fighting. She refused to let them see her crack. She never cried, not where they could see. They broke her body and she screamed for them, but her mind remained intact, trying to find ways to get away from this place.
“Buyers are here, Max.”
She stiffened. Buyers meant that they might have a chance out of here. She hadn’t been put on the block yet – too gruff, too proud, too wild. None of the slavers wanted to run the risk that she would run. In the first thirty days, they were still responsible for her. If she ran, they’d be on the hook when the buyer asked for compensation.
“Are you going on the block?” Max asked, her chains rattling as she tried to move closer.
She’d never seen Kenny. All she had were broken fingernails, callused fingers and a voice. She had an image in her head of a young boy, probably sun-darkened – his accent placed him as a tribal from near the edge of the desert – dark haired, with light eyes.
Max leaned her head against the damp wall. Her eyes closed and she tried to get another centimeter out of the chains. She just wanted enough so they could hold hands. They were stuck here together. No reason they shouldn’t get some comfort from one another.
“I… they said I was ready.” Kenny’s admission whispered into her tiny little cell.
Max felt tears begin to gather on her lashes. She would be losing Kenny. Her eyes blinked rapidly, holding back her grief. “Good.” Anything to get out of here. “I want you to go, Kenny. Go, and forget about me. Serve and maybe you can earn your freedom.”
It was the only hope that people like them had. A chance: serve a master well, and maybe they’d earn their freedom.
Her hands clenched into fists. She shouldn’t even be here. She was nobleborn, even though she hadn’t been home in the last five years. How she’d ended up here…
It’d been stupid, even at the time. A little bit too much to drink, in a town she didn’t know and sure enough, next thing she knew, she was here in a cell, probably not that far from where she’d started out, chained and being prepared for the auction block.
“But Max…”
“No!” She snapped. His fingers disappeared. “Listen to me, Kenny. Remembering me can only cause you pain. I want you to go do everything you can to earn your freedom.”
Unfortunately, Max knew exactly what that might entail. Her family owned slaves. It had been that that had driven her away. Her best childhood friend had been given away when she’d reached her majority – a wedding present for her elder sister’s new husband.
She’d left the day after, and probably caused a huge scandal when she missed the wedding. Not that Max really cared any more.
Her sister had laughed at her when she’d complained about losing her friend.
“Max, can’t you pretend? Maybe it’ll get you out of here.”
It wasn’t the first time that Kenny had suggested such a thing. She’d even considered it once. But only for a moment.
She’d even tried.
“No.” Max stared into the dark.
“When I get bought, I’ll try to get my new master to buy you, Max.”
A smile twitched her lips. “Thank you, Kenny.”
They lapsed into silence.
When the slavers came for Kenny, he whispered good bye. Max wished him well. She scooted back and leaned back against the wall. She waited.
The door to her cell opened and she glared up at the man standing in the doorway. Max would not let him break her. She would not become a slave.
“So, big brother,” she sneered. “How’s my sister?”
Prompt: Slavery
Rating: PG-13
Content Note/Warnings: SLAVERY. Nothing too explicit, but it’s not a happy time.
Hands reached through the bars. She flinched back until she recognized the filthy broken nails. Her own fingers reached out to brush against them. “Kenny?”
“I’m here, Max.” His voice sounded rough, like he’d been screaming.
Had he been? The halls echoed oddly and every time someone screamed, she was just thankful that it hadn’t been her.
Shackles around her wrists kept her confined to a far corner of the cell. If she stretched, though, she was just tall enough to reach toward the bars. Kenny had more room to move. He’d been here longer, had been broken.
Max kept fighting. She refused to let them see her crack. She never cried, not where they could see. They broke her body and she screamed for them, but her mind remained intact, trying to find ways to get away from this place.
“Buyers are here, Max.”
She stiffened. Buyers meant that they might have a chance out of here. She hadn’t been put on the block yet – too gruff, too proud, too wild. None of the slavers wanted to run the risk that she would run. In the first thirty days, they were still responsible for her. If she ran, they’d be on the hook when the buyer asked for compensation.
“Are you going on the block?” Max asked, her chains rattling as she tried to move closer.
She’d never seen Kenny. All she had were broken fingernails, callused fingers and a voice. She had an image in her head of a young boy, probably sun-darkened – his accent placed him as a tribal from near the edge of the desert – dark haired, with light eyes.
Max leaned her head against the damp wall. Her eyes closed and she tried to get another centimeter out of the chains. She just wanted enough so they could hold hands. They were stuck here together. No reason they shouldn’t get some comfort from one another.
“I… they said I was ready.” Kenny’s admission whispered into her tiny little cell.
Max felt tears begin to gather on her lashes. She would be losing Kenny. Her eyes blinked rapidly, holding back her grief. “Good.” Anything to get out of here. “I want you to go, Kenny. Go, and forget about me. Serve and maybe you can earn your freedom.”
It was the only hope that people like them had. A chance: serve a master well, and maybe they’d earn their freedom.
Her hands clenched into fists. She shouldn’t even be here. She was nobleborn, even though she hadn’t been home in the last five years. How she’d ended up here…
It’d been stupid, even at the time. A little bit too much to drink, in a town she didn’t know and sure enough, next thing she knew, she was here in a cell, probably not that far from where she’d started out, chained and being prepared for the auction block.
“But Max…”
“No!” She snapped. His fingers disappeared. “Listen to me, Kenny. Remembering me can only cause you pain. I want you to go do everything you can to earn your freedom.”
Unfortunately, Max knew exactly what that might entail. Her family owned slaves. It had been that that had driven her away. Her best childhood friend had been given away when she’d reached her majority – a wedding present for her elder sister’s new husband.
She’d left the day after, and probably caused a huge scandal when she missed the wedding. Not that Max really cared any more.
Her sister had laughed at her when she’d complained about losing her friend.
“Max, can’t you pretend? Maybe it’ll get you out of here.”
It wasn’t the first time that Kenny had suggested such a thing. She’d even considered it once. But only for a moment.
She’d even tried.
“No.” Max stared into the dark.
“When I get bought, I’ll try to get my new master to buy you, Max.”
A smile twitched her lips. “Thank you, Kenny.”
They lapsed into silence.
When the slavers came for Kenny, he whispered good bye. Max wished him well. She scooted back and leaned back against the wall. She waited.
The door to her cell opened and she glared up at the man standing in the doorway. Max would not let him break her. She would not become a slave.
“So, big brother,” she sneered. “How’s my sister?”