An: Alright to explain this, we've been going through the whole formation of the U.S. in U.S. History (surprise) and just the thought of Native Americans ran this up in my head. I've always loved the tales of Pocahontas, and this will have that sort of love story BUT IT WILL NOT BE LIKE HER STORY AT ALL! Which is why I have this prologue.
This story will be my own, it will just be a little AU fic for a chance of scenery. I myself love alternate universe, Booth and Brennan fics, but not everyone else does. Hey, at least it's a little something different with all the Hannah drama. :P
If you trust me, you will love this story, because of course I'll have all sorts of fun twists and turns along the way. And of course, there will be a M RATING! Later. :) But hey, better late then never right. :) hehe
And like every update, I will inform you that if you want to keep up with story progress or hints to new chapters or stories follow me on twitter!
twitter(dot)com(slash)alexosaurus :)
In the darkest hours before dawn, a child stirs in her sleep. She is young-barely even old enough to be considered a child-and calm as she blinks against the dark surrounding her. She can hear the soft breathing of her parents, and the barely there snore of her older brother, but against the rustling of the trees outside and the movement of woodland creatures, she can hear strange footsteps moving closer.
An unsettling fear be stills her small heart, and with an unknown motive, she starts shaking the creaky posts of her crib. Her father groans and huffs a curt reply she doesn't understand, but doesn't move from his sleeping position. She tries again, and shakes the posts harder, releasing a soft cry of alert as the footsteps near, and grow in quantity.
She recognizes her name as he speaks it, but despite his tone she shakes harder, and cries just a little louder. But at that instance, they attacked, and war cries rose into the smoky air to disturb sleep. Her father jumped up instantly, and looked at her in awe, before he rested a tender hand on her mother's arm, and grabbed for the gun that slept near his side. Wood splintered at the front of their house, and the young child cried softly, but then died to silence.
Her mother jumped from her bed and grabbed her from her crib; holding her close to her chest with shaky arms. Loud shots echoed through the room, and the young child winced against the noise, burying her face against her mother's chest to try and escape the horror surrounding her. She heard footsteps, and felt her mother teeter as her brother rushed to her side, holding onto her leg and resting a protective hand against her small back. He tried to be strong, but the sickening sounds of bone weapons clashing with the flesh and bone of living beings sickened him, and brought his knees to a wobble.
"Christine!" their father yelled, as his gun was fired once again. "Hide in the cupboard."
"But Max," her mother protested, her usual sweet and gentle voice becoming one ridden with fear, and cracking under pressure.
"Don't disobey me! Hide!"
That wretched and ear splitting shot rocked through the house once again, and the young child covered her hands over her ears, her eyes screwed shut tightly against the pain pulsing through her head. She leaned her small frame against her mother's chest, and she mumbled slightly as she was jostled by the quick movements towards the cupboard near the fireplace. The creaky wooden door was thrown open, and her mother easily maneuvered inside; moving her brother to one corner, and she to the other. Darkness surrounded the siblings, and large, round eyes followed the jerky movements of the woman searching for the gun hidden behind the meats and jams stocked along the shelves.
More wood splintered, and more guns fired, but with each gun, there seemed to be another ten of whatever monsters were bestowing havoc upon her world. Screams, cries, and bloody gurgles rose into the air, and the small child scrunched up closer to herself, her eyes passing around for something to take her mind away for what she was being forced to witness. A small ball made of animal skin caught her attention, and she crawled further into the darkness to retrieve it. The instant that she was hidden behind a large sack of potatoes, a dark skinned man kicked back the door and grabbed at her mother.
Bottles crashed to the floor, and tears stained the young child's eyes as she fought the need to cry for her mother. She looked to the far corner, and noticed that her brother was gone; her breath catching in her throat as she watched him throw his small body to the tall, strong, dark skinned man with his hand laced in her mother's hair. The weapon he carried was light, but ended with a stone that looked heavy enough to break down a large tree, and with a deathly horror, she watched as that dark man raised his weapon and smashed that large rock across her brother's face, and sent his limp body crashing to the ground.
Her mother screamed his name, but soon she disappeared, and a hard thump was heard when the dark man threw her onto the ground. Gun shots rang out, but she no longer heard the cursing and yells of her father, nor did she hear the struggles from her mother. Her small shoulders shook as she watched blood move under the door, and she whimpered as she heard dark men conversing quickly in a language she had never heard before.
She released a cry, and against her better self, she crawled to her brother. She placed her small, chubby fingers upon his bloody and broken face, and tried to mutter his name. Her fingers quickly became stained with blood, and in a last ditch attempt, she placed her hand upon his chest, and tried to feel the beat she had felt within her mother.
She felt nothing.
Exactly what happened, she didn't know, but she knew enough to know what she was now orphaned, and that the only family she had, had been assassinated before her eyes. That fact was what finally brought the sobs from her chest.
She cried loud, heart wrenching cries, and kept her hand on her brother's chest. She tried to call his name, and call for her mom, but no one came. She choked against her lack of oxygen and tear laden throat, and she started to back away from the corpse before her, but an uncomfortable and quite painful heat reached her skin first.
Her shriek was sharp, but the burning of the house around her was sharper. Wood cracked and released sparks into the air that burned at her tender, soft flesh. Her tears came quicker and harder, as she tried still to back away from the pain, but to her dismay she only backed into more of the pain. Her clothing started to burn away with the fire, and she released a sharp and throat-soaring scream when fire tore up her arm, and darkened her skin into a twisted and distorted figure.
The door in front of her burst open once again, and another dark skinned figure stood before her. The young girl quaked in fear, but the eyes she looked up into were soft, and caring. The dark man quickly ducked inside and scooped her into his arms, tenderly keeping her burnt arm straight, as he let his large hands move through the long auburn locks that fell around her face.
He was warm against her, and the comfort she felt was overwhelming. Her arm still pulsated in pain, and she could barely breathe, but the fear she had experienced settled within her a fatigue she had never experienced before.
She had no idea where this man was taking her, but at this point nothing seemed to matter to her, and she allowed herself to sleep.