Disclaimer: C'mon, if I was Margaret Mitchell (or her reincarnation) the quality of my writing would be way better than this, I would be able to sell two or three bestsellers a year, get super-duper rich, and I wouldn't have to write fanfiction on this site. So no, Gone with the Wind, Scarlett O'Hara and Rhett Butler aren't mine. I wish he was.
Yes, lulu kept her promise (OMG). I'm writing a new "happy" fic. Wee. It's been done before, but I'll try to be original. I don't understand why it's so hard to come up with a happy ending that's not very cheesy or lame. It's much easier to end every single story sadly. Now, I have more respect for stupid fluffy endings and Mary Sues than before.
"Where am I?" Scarlett thought, as she groggily opened her eyes. All she could remember was Bonnie dying, Melanie dying, Rhett leaving her because he couldn't stand her any longer, and other such atrocities. Why, she was in Tara, she could tell she this was her old bedroom. But she couldn't remember coming back to Tara at all. Scarlett struggled to clear her mind and become more awake, but failed miserably, instead deciding to curl back beneath the thin sheets and nap until noon. Rhett had left her, and without him, she had no reason to wake up in the morning. So why not sleep some more to forget him a little longer? The pain was still raw, and she didn't want to face the outside world yet.
But the sun disagreed with her decision, and the warm rays tickled her eyelids until she finally gave in and kicked her sheets away irritably. Melanie must already be awake, she thought absently, her mind still occupied by Rhett's cruel departure and her plans to get him back somehow. Wait, wasn't Melly dead? She froze. No of course not, how could she be dead? Melly had never died! Her marriage, her daughter Bonnie, it had all been a dream! Scarlett suddenly laughed in relief at her own stupidity. How could she ever fall in love with the vile man who abandoned her between two belligerent armies? How could she ever marry Rhett Butler? She felt silly. God's nightgown, she had almost believed it for a minute or two! She had to admit that she felt much better now. Thank the Lord her daughter hadn't died, her father hadn't died, and Rhett Butler had never broken her heart. There was still such an awful feeling clutching her chest when she remembered the last words Rhett had told her in that horrible dream, as though her heart really had been broken and they really had married each other and tortured each other for years. Yes, she was definitely glad it never happened.
She shrugged the uncomfortable feelings off. A dream, no matter how realistic it was, always remains a dream. And to be honest, nightmares about Rhett Butler were almost a nice change compared to the fog that had plagued her sleep for a long time now. As she climbed down the decrepit stairs, she couldn't help thinking that being hungry and seeing her beloved Tara in ruins after this goddamed war really wasn't too bad compared to the awful numbness that had followed Rhett's declaration of his imminent departure. Scarlett was puzzled. When had Rhett's opinion ever mattered? He was a cad, she never wanted to see him again, and there was no way on earth he could ever be in love with her. Why had she been so affected by such a dream? She decided to clean up her jumbled up thoughts some other time. Maybe tomorrow, if she could. Not that a scary and strange dream was high on her priorities when she had so many mouths to feed and so much work to do.
Nevertheless, she felt a lot happier seeing Melanie's beaming face that morning than ever before, and slightly less excited about meeting Ashley than usual.
Was it really just a dream?
Now that she thought of it, it might well be a premonition. When Will had told her they needed three hundred dollars to pay the taxes... To be honest, she had nearly fainted. Three hundred! The exact same sum that stinking Yankee Wilkerson had asked in the dream! Oh Lord. Maybe it was just a frightening coincidence. She sure hoped so.
Three Hundred! How in the world would she get the money? She couldn't lose Tara. She would starve every single person in the house including herself rather than lose her beloved home.
Should she go ask Ashley for his opinion? Scarlett was sure that Ashley's suggestions would be useless, and was immediately shocked by her own thoughts. This was so unthinkable, how could Ashley be useless? She loved him, and in her eyes he had been nothing short of perfect. It wasn't Ashley's fault if he was... well, not very good at making money. He simply hadn't been bred for rough work, he was elegant, refined, and he...
Oh, she would just go and ask him, whether his reply was helpful or not. After all, he was a man, men always understood such things better than women.
"Ashley?" Scarlett called, shivering under her shawl.
Ashley put his ax down. "They say Abe Lincoln got his start splitting rails. Just think of what heights I may climb!" He said almost cheerfully as she went up to him.
"Oh, don't talk like that." She was quite irritated by his careless remark, and had no idea why. She hurriedly told him of the situation while Ashley listened intently and said absolutely nothing as she spoke.
"Well, where do you suggest we get this money?" She finally asked, when Ashley kept silent.
He smiled weakly. "In all these months since I've been home I've only heard of one person, Rhett Butler, who actually has money."
Scarlett was about to snap at him crossly for even mentioning this skunk, but something stopped her. Rhett Butler? Rhett Butler... Scarlett could feel an plan burgeoning in her cunning mind. Something about green velvet... She struggled to remember while Ashley droned on.
"I wonder what will happen to everybody in the South, not only us at Tara. In the end what will happen will be what has happened whenever a civilization breaks up. The people who have brains and courage come through, and the ones who haven't are..."
Scarlett felt a tired feeling creeping over her. Ashley wasn't being any help, and she had wasted her time asking him his opinion. There he was, talking nonsense about civilizations breaking up, when what she needed was advice on how to earn a large sum of money as quickly as possible. But he had inadvertently given her an idea.
What had she done in the dream? She had gone to Rhett Butler in a green dress made of curtains and tried to make him marry her, and when that didn't work she had married Frank Kennedy as an alternative. How could she ever marry Frank Kennedy, of all men, was beyond her. His fussy manners had always annoyed Scarlett, and she could not be sure Frank really had as much money as she needed. If he could save Tara, though, she would be unspeakably grateful.
But there was still Rhett. She couldn't trick him into paying her, she knew it. The dream had been right about the fact that he could always see through her pretenses no matter how well she lied, and if she was prancing about in a beautiful green dress when her skin was sunburned and her hands were blistered hideously, he would find out straight away that she was lying and she wouldn't get a penny out of him. Instead, she had to tell him bluntly that she needed money desperately, to beg him if needed, and assure him that she would pay him back later with interests. She did not particularly like the idea. Her pride would never let her accept his charity, yet she could not think of anything better to do. No, it wouldn't be charity, she thought to reassure herself. I only want to borrow some money, and I would repay him. But the fact that a cad like Rhett Butler would give her money out of the kindness of his wicked heart was highly unlikely. He wouldn't want to marry her, of course, and she wasn't pretty enough anymore for him to want her even as a mistress. But she had to take a chance, however farfetched was the idea of Rhett helping her, and if he ignored her plea because Scarlett had slapped him, there would still be Frank Kennedy. Maybe she should make the green dress just in case she had to flirt with Suellen's fiancé.
It's pretty short, isn't it? I like short first chapters for some reason. I don't know how long this fic is going to be yet, and I'm not even sure if I like the fact that it's gonna be happy ending (but it is, all because of missysammy).