Saffron
Rated: G
Spoilers: mention of Our Mrs. Reynolds.
Summary: Saffron is a pigment, used for orange and yellow dye. It leaves a mark on all it touches. Like me.
Disclaimer: I had a jar of fireflies once, but then I let them go. So, no, I don't own Firefly.
A/N: Hey everybody! Here is a look into the character of Saffron/Yolanda/Bridget, perhaps my favourite character. Okay, so we both have red hair and blue eyes which I thought was cool since I don't see many people on TV with that combo. And my grandmother used to call me Bridget :) Hope you like. I must say, once I started researching saffron, there was some really neat information about it.
Best wishes and lots of love!
Christine
0-0-0
Saffron, from the crocus flower. I've only ever seen it grow on one planet. I thought it was so beautiful. Saffron is a pigment, used for orange and yellow dye. It leaves a mark on all it touches. Like me. Like I want to do.
I remember when I was a little girl, a nobody, growing up on a backwater moon, dirt poor. My mother died when I was a baby. My grandmother moved in with my father and me to take care of us. My father was a hard man. Hard working and hard. Never made enough money and didn't seem to care. Like he'd lost his will for a better life long ago. I never knew why.
My grandmother would tell me, "Girl, promise me some day you'll leave this place. You're smart enough to get better for yourself." Then she'd cough that hard cough I'd never known her without and turn back to her work. She'd been a trained companion when she was young. There were still hints of beauty behind the lines on her face, but, for whatever reason, she'd left that life long before I was born. She didn't say why, and I never asked.
She did her best to teach me about what that better life should look like, a life she had known so many years ago – lots of money, plenty to eat, one good man to love if I was lucky. She always made it sound so easy.
The day she died was the day I left home. I was sixteen.
I hooked up with a guy named Joran. He offered me a ride off-world. I'd never been in space before. He taught me everything he knew about ships and engineering. We pulled off a few jobs together until he got himself killed. I knew I could do this work by myself and do it better than him too. I took Joran's ship as my own and took advantage of his contacts.
And so began my life of lie, cheat, steal. Whatever you have to do. Just never trust anyone but yourself.
My grandmother taught me many things – how to cook and dance, how to read body language and win people over with charm, not force, how to swear in Chinese – you know, the important stuff. But the one lesson she forgot to teach me and I didn't know to ask her for was how to keep your heart from turning hard. Hers never did despite it all. I didn't even realize it was happening to me; it came on so slowly and quietly like thin roots creeping in and gripping like a vice.
A funny thing happens when your heart grows hard. Other people can tell. It's not so easy to pull off jobs anymore. The wide-eyed, innocent routine just doesn't fly when your eyes aren't so wide and innocent as they used to be, and you can't figure out for the life of you how they ever were in the first place or how to get it back.
Saffron is also a spice. I've never cooked with it, but I know that it adds a savoury flavour. Which is exactly what I needed. Someone to put back a little of the innocence and mercy I had lost. Make me aromatic and alluring once again. That's another thing about the crocus flower – it can't grow on its own. It needs human hands to cultivate it.
Funny that I found it in a war-torn ex-soldier pulling off illegal jobs. But hey, I'm not fussy. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him that he could give me what I wanted. A little respite. A little care... And then a boat-load of cash... But that was just an added bonus. It was really only him that I wanted most.
So I took what little untouched part of me that was left and used it to bind myself to him, if only for a few days. Good thing he was drunk or he probably would have seen through my facade. He may be gullible, but he's not stupid. I think my grandmother would have liked him, that good man she told me I was supposed to find and love. If I was lucky.
Saffron. A rare, expensive, precious delicacy in this place. Orange and yellow like the sun. Sold in little wooden boxes painted red. Maybe someday I will catch so high a prize.