I WROTE THIS FIC A LONG TIME AGO BUT DIDN'T REALLY LIKE IT OR WANT TO CONTINUE IT. I RECENTLY FOUND IT ON MY HARDDRIVE AND DECIDED TO UPLOAD IT AGAIN. This is just so those who may have read it before don't get confused and think I've stolen/copied it.
I've always wanted to read a good Brittana!Slave fic but can't find any, so taking matters into my own hands, here I am with a slave fic. AU of course and set in the 1800's. I'm good at history but the last time I learnt about the slaves was when I started high school, so obviously it wasn't a lot of detail and it was years ago, so I'm sorry for any mistakes on the facts and stuff. I know there are a lot of people who don't like reading 'old fashioned' fics as they call them, but I'm gonna make it as interesting as possible.
Quick Summary: Santana is a captured slave and taken to America, where Brittany is on the market one day and instantly feels a connection. Brittany buys Santana and things take off from there ;) Will be mentions of Faberry and Samcedes and maybe Tike.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, however, I do own a Naya Rivera and Heather Morris cardboard cut out.
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February 17th 1821
Santana Lopez, a twenty-two year old artist, carelessly walked through the fields of an old African village, admiring the feel of the soft grass on her feet and the gentle wind blowing through her long, dark hair.
Santana was a traveller - not the gypsy kind, the kind that appreciated the breath takingly beautiful sites the world gave to her - and every so often travelled to the most exotic places on earth - along with her very best friend in the world, Mercedes Jones, whom she met when her papi decided to do business with Mercedes' father and buy a huge sailing ship with him - her only possessions an old ship that her captain father had given her and a bag full of sketch pads and charcoal pencils.
Growing up in Spain with her incredibly rich captain of many ships father and house wife mother, Santana had a good life, never going hungry or cold and having oppurtunitys to learn her things that would make her money in later life.
She was fascinated by the landscapes and sculptures she saw when travelling to the city with her mother. She would always press herself up against the window of the horse carriage and never take her eyes of the buildings and sites the city brought to her.
Her mother would always scold her for wasting time drawing when she should be reading books in house library, spending time with her English tutor or training the horses. Santana would always politely argue back, stating that she had read every book in the library at least twice and that her English was perfect. It was. Santana was a wonderful English speaker, which impressed her tutor, Miss Emma Pillsbury greatly.
"Santanita, how many times have I told you to focus on the homework Miss Pillsbury has given you? I don't want your ability of speaking English to drop. You know how much me and your papi want you to succeed in life." A young fifteen year old Santana looks up from where she was sprawled across the blanket on her balcony, sketching the mountains in the distance of the Spanish country side.
"Mami, you and papi both know very well that I am perfect in every aspect of the English language. Miss Pillsbury tells me that I can speak better English than the majority of people back in England. I've read many amazing books in our library. I know everything that I should know. I can stitch and sow dresses, I can cook, I can clean, I can care for the horses, I can read and write in two languages..." She looked up at her mother who had a stern look across her face with her arms crossed on her chest.
"Please, Mami. Drawing is my dream. It's the thing I like the most after spending time with you and papi of course. Please understand that this is what I love to do."
Her mother nodded and walked to the large wooden doors across Santana's spanish bed room. "Abuela would be most certainly proud of you, Santana. I truly understand that drawing is what you love. Dancing was my dream and I lived it for many long, wonderful years until I met your father and I became pregnant. I wish I'd have gotten more time to dance but I don't regret giving birth to you or marrying your father. Promise me you won't give up on studying or anything else for that matter?"
Santana smiled and made the journey across the room to bring her mother into a warm, Lopez embrace. "Si, mami. I promise."
Santana was carefully memorizing the colors and shapes of the meadows she saw in the distance of the field she was walking in. There were a lot of cattle trotting around her in the field and the stench of the manure was revolting, but Santana's mind was somewhere else. Ever since she started travelling around the world, she'd become more peaceful but also more aware.
When Santana was nineteen, her mother had tragically died by getting hit by an out of control horse in the city one day. Santana mourned the loss of her mother for months, consequently causing her a massive loss of inspiration, therefore, no more drawing. It wasn't until she was twenty one that her papi had come into her room and handed her a map of the world. He took her hand and led her to an old ship that he'd bought only four years ago and let her onto the deck. "This is for you, mija. I'm letting you live your dreams, just like your mother would have wanted you to." Was what her papi had told her before she proceeded to spend months on training how to work aboard a ship. She'd have a crew of course, but she had absolutely no knowledge of what she would have to do if the worst happened.
A day before she turned twenty two, she said her last farewells to her father, as she wouldn't be seeing him for another three years, if she did make it back to Spain alive. The thought scared her but her father had told her that without fear of making it, a dream is not really a dream.
There had been more than a couple of dangerous encounters with pirates on the seas and also a few when she stopped at England for a few days. From what she was told by Miss Pillsbury, England was not a nice place to live in. There where many diseases that could not be cured and a lot of thieves, what English people called muggers. Miss Pillsbury had the economy in England was a fast downfall and what was before a very wealthy country, became poverty stricken due to wars and laws.
Santana was apprehensive to visit England. She'd heard stories of the great war between England and Spain on the seas, a war which Spain was beaten in. She was afraid that if and English man or woman found out she was infact Spanish, she would be taken to what people called the stocks and viciously killed infront of everybody. Also, by taking along her black best friend, caused her a lot more worry. She'd read in her library books that white people did not take well to black people. They were ranked as third class citizens and lower. White people even enslaved black people and treated them like animals, all because of the color of their skin. This disgusted Santana, which was why when they anchored at one of the docks in the city of Liverpool, England and herself and Mercedes received a lot of glares of anger and hatred, she stayed for a night before immediately getting back on her boat and setting off for France.
Santana wondered around the field for a few more hours before stopping at the edge of the small African village and watching the villagers go about their day. She saw Mercedes interacting with a few children and smiled. Mercedes was the only thing close to a friend she ever had. Her mother had not let her enjoy things outside of the huge Lopez house for fear of her safety. The only time Santana had ever ventured out of the house was when she had dress or shoe fittings in the city or when her mother had desperately needed something and she went along with her. So when her father had introduced the Santana to the Jones family, she immediately made it her task to befriend Mercedes, which surprisingly went well, despite Santana had never spoken to a female of her own age, ever.
They'd been best friends since day one. Mercedes couldn't speak Spanish, which was a shame even though Santana could speak fluently in English. Mercedes family had moved from England for safety and so Mr Jones could make more money. When Santana announced she would be travelling around the world for her art, Mercedes was the first one who offered to go with her. Mercedes had a powerful voice and staying in a country that she couldn't even speak the language of, would get her no success. She had a dream to go to a place she'd read about in books, The United States of America. Apparently there were more 'famous' and wealthy people there than anybody could ever imagine and songs and music were a big part of the American culture. Santana had promised Mercedes that they would stay in America for at least two months which Mercedes happily agreed too.
Santana took out her sketch pad from the small bag that she'd been carrying all day. She sat her back against the wooden plants of the fence that was splitting the field from the village, then took out a piece of black charcoal. She drew the outline of the trees and meadows she could make out in the distance of the African landscape before adding every little detail to her drawing. She was peacefully in her own world when a loud, southern voice boomed through her ears.
"If you even think of running away, me and my men will kill you. We have guns."
Santana tensed and her eyes widened. What was happening?
"Get them all!" The voice came from the village and Santana immediately scrambled to her feet. She failed to care that she was putting herself in danger, she had to get to the village where Mercedes was.
Oh god, Mercedes!
She'd promised Mr and Mrs Jones so many times that she'd take care of their daughter. She couldn't let anything happen to Mercedes, she'd never live with herself if her best friend was put in danger and she didn't do anything about it.
"Mercedes!" She screamed and ran from the field to the spot where she'd seen her best friend playing with the children just a few hours before. She scanned the area quickly, only finding her best friend no where to be seen, along with the children that had been there.
"Mercedes!" She scanned the village once more before turning and coming face to face with a large, bulky white man. Behind him she saw the image of a chained Mercedes and more white men, chaining up the other Africans from the village.
Oh, good lord. This couldn't be happening. Not to Mercedes. She'd read about this in books. Slavery was the word.
The man in front of her grabbed her forcefully by the arm and dragged her over to a set of chains. She caught Mercedes' eyes and saw tears coming out of them. Her heart began to beat frantically at the sight of her best friend in danger and upset.
"Get off me, filthy man! It's inappropriate and disrespectful to touch a young lady how you're touching me!" The man only laughed and gripped Santana's arm tighter, leaving red finger marks on the soft caramel skin.
"Young lady my fucking arse! More like young monkey!" He spat at her and Santana was rendered speechless. She'd never heard somebody use such revolting language, especially when they were addressing her.
"That is a disgusting way to speak to somebody! Do you have an idea of what respect is?" Santana exploded and forced her way out of his grip, quickly glancing back to Mercedes who was watching the scene with wide eyes. Mercedes shook her head at Santana, silently telling her not to make things any harder for herself because she knew these white men were dangerous.
The man lunged at Santana, gripping her body even tighter than he had before. "The fact is I'm not talking to a person, I'm talking to a fucking dirty animal." He whispered venomly in Santana's ear, causing her to stop her body from moving. He had mistaken her and Mercedes for Africans and they were captured. They were about to become slaves.
"Strip these two then take them to the boats!" Another white man motioned to Santana and Mercedes who were wearing one of the many bustle dresses Mrs Jones had provided them with.
Santana screamed inaudibly as one of the men came closer than needed, so she could feel his breath on her neck. He snaked one his hands down her side before ripping the dress off Santana's back before he recieved an angry shove from her.
He smirked. "Fiesty one, we have here!" he called to his men. "I'm gonna have some fun with you." He said devilly into her ear. She shivered when the man came close to groping her boob only to be forcefully pushed onto the hard ground of the African village.
"Load 'em up into the boats boys. Be careful to keep these two apart!" The white man who had stripped Santana and Mercedes of their clothing. Santana choked back a sob when she realized she would be seperated from her best friend. She couldn't leave Mercedes on her own.
"Mercedes!" She sobbed, she desperately tried to escape the grip of the chain which had been applied to both wrists.
"Word of advice for ya here, monkey. Here is Martha," he pointed to Mercedes. "And your new name is, Sally. Got it?" Santana shook her head and disgust and tried to lunge at the man, only to be held back by the metal chain.
"My name is Santana and her name is Mercedes!" She screamed. "Not anymore. You will use your Christian names from now on." The man sneered and walked to the front of the line of chained Africans that had been formed. Santana huffed and slumped down to her knees, only to be dragged back to her feet by.
"Tienes suerte estoy ocupado en estas cadenas otro sabio yo le di un golpe de fuerza!" Santana shouted, attracting the attention of a few Africans who looked like they had no idea what was going on.
"What does that mean in monkey language, eh? Why can't you be quiet like the rest of these dumb fucks?" The white man hissed, motioning at the other Africans. Of course they didn't understand what was going on, they couldn't speak English and were uneducated unlike Santana and Mercedes.
Santana, along with the other villagers chained together, we pulled and dragged for hours until they reached a large dock and were met with the sight of a bright blue ocean. Santana thought this would be a beautiful place to draw, but shook the thought out of her head when she saw Mercedes being tugged sharply onto the boat next to the one Santana was being led too. "No!" Was a swallowed sob down her throat. She caught her best friends eyes, the girl was looking terrified, she had tear marks down her cheeks and hand marks on her arms from the white men. Santana seethed with anger when she saw what the men had done to her best friend. She mouthed a "Don't worry, Cedes. I'm going to save us. We'll be okay. Stay strong. I'll find you." before she was pushed harshly into a small space on the boat hitting her head hard and causing her to pass out, not leaving her another chance to get a glance at her best friend.
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March 12th 1921
Brittany Pierce walked happily through the market area of her small town in the Village of Salado, TX. She'd heard that there would be live auctions today and as she was in dire need of a new horse, she decided she'd check out if there was any good offers.
Brittany owned a farm on the far side of the village, leaving her with no neighbors apart from two Asians who owned an old boat house on the other side of the creek at the bottom of her fields. Brittany was a wealthy twenty-three year old, her money gained from when her rich father had died after being shot by bandits after visiting a nearby village one day. Brittany was distraught when she heard the news that she'd no longer have a single parents or family member, prior to her never meeting her mother and the family she had living more than four hundred miles away, a week journey by horse.
She had inherited the farm and land he owned and the money he had in the safe of the farm house attic. In a will that the Sheriff found, he demanded that Brittany should not be treated any differently to how she was before. He demanded that she get everything he owned and how she should be protected by the sheriff's office for any looters or bandits. The demands were obeyed, due to John Pierce being one of the most respected people in Salado.
Brittany was more than shocked to find she had inherited almost three million dollars in her fathers money, as well as 19 acres of land around the village, along with almost fifty animals on the farm. She knew she would never manage to handle the farm on her own, therefore she hired the local saloon owners step-son, Finn Hudson a job at being a farm hand. He happily took the job and moved into the spare barn, along with Noah Puckerman and had suggested Brittany hire two young ladies, by the name of Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray to be her two house maidens. As soon as Brittany met the two girls, she formed a tight friendship and immediately hired them.
Word soon got around that Brittany was paying the four young adults very good pay and even let them move into the house with her due to loneliness and soon more and more people would show up at the farm asking for a job. Brittany rejected a lot of people, due to not being able to trust anybody, as her father had taught her as she grew up. Instead, she donated a large sum of money to the poor area of her town because of how compassionate she was.
That had happened almost two years ago and Brittany was still getting used to the fact that her father was dead and she was now beyond rich and also, very famous for her wealthiness in the small town she lived in.
Brittany wondered further into the market area, keeping an eye out for any horses that people were auctioning. She greeted some of the locals she remembered and bought a few packets of seeds for her crops. She passed the dock at the end of the long road that the market was situated and was surprised to see two large boats anchored up. She saw crowd people gathered at an old building, all suspiciously excited and all grabbing piles of money out of their pockets.
Brittany, being the intrigued person she was, walked a few steps closer and almost fell to her knees at what she saw.
She knew what was happening. Her father had told her stories of when every couple of years, americans from the north side of the country would sail to Africa and capture the villagers and bring them back to America as slaves. He had told her how most of the captured ones wouldn't even survive the journey to America and if they did, would soon die anyway because of how cruel the buyers treated them. When Brittany asked why her father never bought a slave, he explained that it would go against his beliefs of treating everybody equally. When she asked why he wasn't stopping the cruel people, he simply replied that he couldn't do nothing and it was a tradition since one hundred years back.
Brittany was rooted to the same spot for over ten minutes, watching in horror as the Africans screamed out in pain when they were branded with the burning hot pole melting viciously into their skin. She forced herself to look away but was immediately turning her head back again when she noticed her.
Small, dark long hair, tan caramel skin, dark mocha eyes and full pouty lips.
She was an angel.
Brittany stood gaping at the lady who was no older than her and almost fainted when she branding stick was brought close to the shaking girls body.
"No!" she screamed as a large man was about the put the stick on the girls body.
Many heads turned to look at Brittany who took a step forward and inspected the beautiful woman in front of her. The woman turned to look at Brittany and Brittany almost melted at the sight of her eyes. They were beautiful and the woman was even more incredibly beautiful up close. She knew she shouldn't be thinking such things about a woman, but her father had taught her to always appreciate beauty and that's what she had always did.
"Ah! Miss Pierce!" A man emerged from behind the large man. A man she had known since she was five years old. Mr Schuester was one of the towns officials and was one of her father's loyal friends.
"May we help you Miss Pierce? Do you have your eyes on this slave?" He questioned and Brittany stilled.
Slave? This beautiful woman was a slave?
The woman in front of her whimpered when she saw another African in the space next to her get branded.
"Uhm- I- How much is she? I mean- uhm, what would it cost to buy her?" Brittany stammered out. She knew if she let this woman go to another person, she'd be treated awfully and she just couldn't let that happen. She felt something when she set her eyes on the woman. She had to get her.
"This one is ten dollars!" He smiled and Brittany cringed. Why was he so happy? Why did he enjoy seeing these innocent people hurt.
"I'll take her. I need her. Now!" She said quickly, needing to get the woman away from these people.
"Ah, sure, Miss Pierce. We just need to brand her then she's all yours!" He said, motioning for the man to place to hot steel on the woman's back.
"No!"
The man stopped again and huffed.
"Miss Pierce, a problem?" Mr Schuester asked her.
"Uhm- don't do that. I mean, I have my own ways of branding." She said, causing the woman to look at her with hurt in her eyes. "A much more painful way." She added, sounding convincing.
Mr Schuester nodded and pulled up the dark skinned beauty and pushed her to Brittany. Brittany caught her and engulfed her into her arms, which the woman struggled to get out of. Brittany held her tighter, but more gently as she noticed the fragile state that her body was in. She felt a rush of warmth run through her body as she held the woman, even in the hostile state she was currently in.
"I expect you treat her to the extreme. No compassion. No care. These people are animals to us. Also, be sure to call them by their Christian names. This one here is called Sally." Mr Schuester exclaimed and Brittany struggled not the cry as she heard the deep breath the woman she was holding take.
"Right, indeed." She nodded, and gently guided the small woman out of the building they were stood in.
"Miss Pierce, what is your chosen method of payment? Two cows would cover the cost of this thing."
Brittany felt anger boil up inside of her. She bit her lip from screaming at the abuse addressed to the woman.
"I'll be back in town to pay tomorrow in cash. Bye, sir."
Brittany rushed out of the building, her hand clasped tightly around the 'slave' she had just bought. She guided her up the hill to were Finn was waiting with her horse cart. She loaded the things she had bought into the front before motioning to the dark girl to step into the cart. The woman looked scared and hesitant and Brittany's heart dropped.
"I'm not going to hurt you." She told the woman softly and stroked her arm soothingly. She noted how skinny the probably once healthy woman was and made it a mental note to feed her a lot when they got back to the farm.
The woman stood her ground and took in her surroundings, most likely looking for her escape route. Brittany noticed and frowned. Had she not figured that she was not like the rest of the townsmen?
"Please, miss. I can tell you honestly right now that I would never hurt you in any possible way. I promise you with my life." Brittany pleaded and the woman looked up and gazed into her eyes, looking for any sign that Brittany was lying.
Brittany breathed a sigh of relief when the woman slowly hauled herself into the cart and pushed herself into the far corner of the seat.
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Santana was watching the woman who had 'bought' her cautiously as she fiddled with the seed packets.
Was this woman lying? What were her intentions? Santana had learnt that the white people had no respect whatsoever. Santana wasn't even African, she was just tanned but her she was, in captivity and in the company of somebody she'd never met. Her mind went back to her best friend and she felt tears prickle her eyes. She hadn't seen Mercedes at the building where all the other slaves were being sold. She desperately hoped that what she had read in the books wasn't true and that Mercedes hadn't been thrown overboard for dying on the journey. But of course it was true, it had happened to a lot of people who were travelling on the boat she was on. Being stuck in a cramped space for three weeks, with one meal a day, people bringing up their entire stomach contents more than three times a day and people actually using the make shift bed they were appointed to as a toilet was sure to make people die. She just hoped Mercedes was not one of the over boarders.
"What's your name?" Came a soft voice from the other side of the cart. Santana almost laughed aloud. The white man had specifically told her to call her by her Christian name Sally yet here the woman was, asking her name.
Santana decided to not say anything and continued to stare at her hands.
"I meant what I said, miss. I'm not going to hurt you. I could never even hurt a fly. I only bought you because I know what would of happened to you if I left you there."
Santana was shocked by the confession but chose to keep her head down. This woman had saved her.
"So, miss, are you going to tell me your name? I'm not going to call you by your chosen name that those horrible people gave to you. What is your real name?"
Santana slowly lifted her head and looked at the woman. She hadn't noticed before but this woman was truly beautiful. Her long golden hair and her creamy pale skin, not to mention the striking blue eyes that caught the Spanish girls attention. Blue was her favorite color.
"Santana." She said simply. "My name is Santana."
The blonde woman inhaled and sighed. "That's a beautiful name, Santana. I'm Brittany." She smiled brightly and Santana couldn't help the tight lipped smile that formed on her lips.
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It was really exciting to write this chapter. It's not my best and I don't have time to check for grammar mistakes. I've already written the second and third so for those of you who actually read and decide to follow, thank you.
Judging by the reviews I receive from this chapter will decide whether I can continue with this or not, but I hope you guys like it because I'm really into this fic already :)