Alright, most of you voted that I should do both stories plus I couldn't get this little plot bunny out of my head! If you don't know what I'm talking about and love Cresswell, you should go read "At Your Service, Captain!" (Yup. Shameless advertising for my own story). Anyways, this story is technically Jacinter but I can't say that there will be plenty of fluffy moments and I'm not sure how long this story will be. This story will be rated M soon due to violence, sexual references, and strong language...but I'm keeping it rated T for now for some exposure.

And a special thanks to Marissa Meyer! With Black History Month a few days away I really wanted to get this story going and with me being an African American, I really appreciate that she would make Winter the most beautiful girl on Luna. You don't really see a lot of main characters who are Black and they are usually a side character if they are. Anyways, whether you're Black, White, Yellow, Purple, Blue...I hope you enjoy this story! Sorry for the long author's note.


Jacin Clay sucked in a breath of the late morning air as his large boots caused his wooden deck to creak. The smell of dirt and gunpowder reached his nose and his intense blue eyes looked out to see his father, rifle in hand, practicing his shot with a row of mason jars. Jacin couldn't forget the weight of the whip at his side even as he trekked over to his father. The older man nodded, shifting a wisp of hay in his mouth.

"Mornin', son."

"Mornin'." Jacin replied back shortly. He was still working on forgiving the man. Back when he had just turned sixteen years old, two females from the infamous Blackburn plantation had shown up to their door, demanding to speak to the man of the house.

After a quick conversation in their small living room, Jacin had been called in. He immediately had laid eyes on a girl with fiery red hair and freckles. She wore a black dress with red trimming, a red corset and a red shawl with a hood. The women, who looked older than the both of them had dark hair, pale, flawless skin and serious grey eyes. Suspicious, he narrowed his eyes at them.

The Blackburn house was infamous because the owner was a woman. After the untimely death of her husband, it had been discovered that the deed to the plantation, all of his money, all of his slaves had been entrusted to her. It was unheard of for a woman to run a plantation by herself. To make matters worse, she had loved to add insult to injury by sending out women on their own to run her errands. To top it all off, there were rumors that Levana had actually been the one to kill her husband, not a slave, as Levana had told everyone.

Jacin knew that women were not as fragile as society would have them labeled as but he still did not approve of women traveling without protection. Men were disgusting creatures who loved to take advantage of women, after all.

"This is the boy?" the woman with dark hair stood, while the girl who seemed to be about his age only stared and stayed quiet. She neared him, her dark purple skirts not slowing her down as she seemed to stand right next to him in an instant. "He is indeed sturdy."

Jacin looked at his father with a questioning eye, but the man only nodded his head and kept his head down. "Yes ma'am, Ms. Mira. Jacin is athletic, strong. He's got a watchful eye like you need for an Overseer."

"Overseer?" Jacin spat, glaring at his father, then down at the dark haired woman.

The woman grinned and held up a sheet of parchment, which Jacin took and began to read over, his heart plummeting up into his throat. "That's right, young Jacin," she said. "To pay back the money that your father and mother borrowed years ago, you will work for the great widow Levana Blackburn as an Overseer until your twenty-first birthday."

Her signature, along with his father's, was at the bottom of the document. Sybil Mira. A witch, if he'd ever seen one, smirked at him as he stared down incredously at her.

Jacin still had three more years until he would be finished paying off his father's debt. He knew Levana's game now. She frequently kidnapped kids like him and made them work without pay through their parents' debt. They were slaves, too, in a way. He hated her with a passion, but there was nothing he could do. Her Overseers had taught him to do their job.

He had tricked everyone into believing that he did not have the stomach to see blood so that he could avoid whipping the slaves, when in actuality he did not believe in beating them. He left that to the others. The slaves knew that if Jacin barked out an order, they'd better hurry and do it, unless they wanted one of the other Overseers to come.

Nodding to his father, he went to fetch his horse and mounted it. He rode his horse, feeling the summer day begin to heat up, until he arrived at the large Blackburn plantation. Hurrying, he went to the fields and called to Liam Kinney, who he was to relieve since the other boy had been working since sun-up.

"Jacin. See you tomorrow morn'." Kinney held out his hand, which Jacin stared at with a scowl, before Kinney shrugged and walked away, his blond locks cut short swinging back and forth.

Jacin couldn't decide if he liked Kinney or not. On one hand, the boy looked at the slaves with the same disgust and contempt that the other Overseers did. But Jacin could not deny the fact that Kinney did not seem to be as bad as the others, either. He did not beat the slaves without extremely good reason and when he did he did not go overboard with the lashes. A lot of the time, Jacin noticed, Kinney barely cracked their skin. Plus, Kinney hated Levana just as much as Jacin did. That had to count for something.

Jacin sighed and surveyed the field, eyes landing on her.

With smooth dark skin, curly ringlets of black hair, full red lips and eyes that shone with mischief, it was hard not to notice Winter amidst the other slaves. She worked quickly beside her friend, the one they called Iko. Jacin had caught several other Overseers staring at Winter with hungry eyes. The thought made him want to punch them all in the face. He knew that if Winter wasn't under Levana's special protection, someone would have already taken Winter and done their worst with her.

He made his way through the fields, glaring at a slave who was moving too slowly.

'Please let today be a good day too' Jacin thought. Things had been normal for Winter lately. Well, as normal as a slave's life could be, he supposed.


The sun was merciless today, as it was quite often. Winter worked steadily nonetheless, fearful of the Overseers wrath. She was the quickest at picking cotton not because she enjoyed it or because she wanted to please her master but because her friend needed her to be.

Iko did not seem to have the same quick, nimble fingers that Winter did no matter how hard she tried so Winter had taken to doing enough work so that she could secretly slip cotton into Iko's basket. Sweat made their coarse dresses stick to their skin and drip from their foreheads despite their cloth-covered heads. Her throat was so dry that she thought even swallowing at this point would be detrimental. An older man had already passed out not too far from where Winter stood.

Winter focused. Focusing and keeping busy seemed to stop the visions. Today was a good day. It was the mantra she repeated over and over in her head.

She had not had visions in days and today would be no different. Perhaps her tortured mind was finally at ease. After all, she had begun learning three lettered words at night with Jacin. They weren't so hard. He said she was catching on quickly, which made her beam with happiness. She had learned the alphabet and could even spell her name in what seemed like no time at all. Not long after Jacin had come to work as an Overseer, her days had begun to move quickly.

Jacin was risking perhaps his very life by teaching her to read in the woods close to the plantation every couple of nights. The very least she could do was learn quickly.

She dared to let her eyes wander up from her work and search the field for his ponytail of blond hair or his striking blue eyes but stopped when she suddenly felt a prickling sensation on her fingertips. Eyes wide, she immediately looked down at them.

Her heart thumped against her ribcage.

"No," she whispered to herself sternly, shutting her eyes against the image. The sensation did not go away- it only grew. The burning was suddenly tearing at her flesh, melting her skin. She could smell her own roasting fingers. She opened her eyes again, confirming her belief.

Her hands were on fire.

"Winter?" Iko whispered next to her, pausing in her work to glance over at her with a concerned expression.

Winter bit her lip, holding in the urge to scream- to run and douse her hands in the nearest basin of water. If she did that, the field hands would know that she was hallucinating again and lock her in the box for who-knows-how long. It took every ounce of will in her body not to move. But that did not stop big globs of tears from rolling down her cheeks. The burning was intense, rolling up to her wrists, daring to eat her alive.

"Winter, it's not real. It's not real," Iko told her, but sounded so far away amidst the crackling of the fire.

It was the sun. Surely, the sun was too hot. It was so hot outside that the sun had set her on fire. Maybe The Box wouldn't be so bad after all.

"You two!"

When Winter looked up to see Aimery Park and Jacin Clay nearing her, her last ounce of willpower evaporated.

Because Jacin…the kind boy who was teaching her to read, who gave her extra scraps, who laughed with her beneath the moonlight…was on fire too.

Winter let out a shriek and reared back, kicking up dirt beneath her. She beat her hands against the ground, trying to stifle the flames so that she could get to Jacin without making his fire even worse. "No!" she shouted, enraged that the flames were growing instead of decreasing. She had to help Jacin!

At this rate she was going to be turned into a pile of girl-shaped ashes.

"Stupid slave," Aimery spat, his white skin tanned by the sun, his piercing eyes glinting. He grabbed Winter's arm roughly and pulled her to her feet before slapping her on her already scarred cheek.

She turned her eyes back to Aimery, who was not on fire even though Winter now wished that he was. As if the sting of his slap had decided to rule over the burning sensation, Winter suddenly realized that the fire was gone. She turned to Jacin, who only stood stoically frowning as Aimery practically dragged her away.

Relief washed through her seeing that he was perfectly fine, though she knew that he had never been on fire to begin with. She could hear him tell the rest of the slaves to get back to work before she regained herself and stood at her full height to walk the rest of the way to The Box.

The box was nothing but a wooden rectangle with a door that was located not too far from the slave quarters. When she had first started having her terrible hallucinations, screaming her head off, Levana had dismissed it with a wave of her long fingers and said simply, "put her in a box", to which her workers complied by actually building the blasted thing.

Winter thought this was funny, since it was probably Levana's fault that she was having mental breakdowns anyways. Doctors were almost positive that Winter's mind had cracked because of the constant stress and toil of being a slave out in the heat all day. Not to mention the fact that she had cracked her head falling down the stairs that unforgettable day Levana had scarred her face.

Confident that they were alone, Aimery swung her around so that her back was against The Box and gazed intensely down at her. Winter looked away, cursing his foul, sweaty smell and the way that he tried to cover it up with some type of spicy smelling cologne.

She cringed when she felt his hand cup her chin and pull her head back so that she was forced to look at him. "You know that you are still here because of me, girl. The least you can do is look me in the eye. One day I'll buy you off of the missus and you'll be mines to have each and every day."

It was a lie. Winter knew that it was not because of Aimery that she was still owned by Levana despite her insanity, but because of her father, who had been a slave as well. He had made Levana promise to keep her safe. But Aimery, thinking that she was a foolish slave that could not think for herself and was prone to hallucinations because she was weak, loved to try to make Winter believe that he was her savior- that she owed him something.

"I'd hate to put such a pretty slave in here, but you know the rules," he said, fishing the key from his pocket and sticking it in the clunky key-box. Yet another lie, Winter thought, this man loved to have powers over others. He loved putting her in here. "Cat got your tongue today, girl?" he asked. When she did not answer his smirk grew malicious. "That's fine. I doubt two days without food will kill you. I've seen slaves go longer."

With that, he pushed her into The Box and slammed the door, allowing the darkness to envelope her. She heard the lock snap into place.

Winter sighed. It was still midday so her cramped space was humid and stuffy. The only light that shone in was from the crack beneath the door. At night, this space became too cold and even darker. It was even worse when she had hallucinations in here because there was no one to calm her down or stop her from hurting herself. Once she had beaten her head against the wood surrounding her so badly that she had knocked her own self out.

In any case, she hated it in here, but was slowly becoming used to it.

Soon they would think up some other torture device to put her in when she hallucinated.

To make matters worse, whenever she lost a day or two inside of The Box, she was forced to work well past sunset even though she could barely see what she was doing. Those days, she would come back to her quarters so exhausted that she could barely move. She would fall into such a deep slumber that she could barely get up at sunrise without being shaken fiercely by Iko.

Iko.

Because of her stupid visions, Iko probably wouldn't have enough cotton and have less supper because of it. If the guards told Levana, she might even tell the guards to make an example out of Iko and beat her.

Winter squeezed her eyes shut and sunk down to sit on the ground, hugging her knees to her chest. To think that the same woman who was keeping a promise to a man that had been a slave was the same woman who could order slaves to be beaten within inches of their lives without even blinking was beyond confusing to Winter.

As the day droned on, Winter fell in and out of an uncomfortable sleep. Her muscles were starting to cramp so she stood up, then slid back down. She told herself a story, trying to spell out the three-lettered words and the only other name she knew how to spell. "W-i-n-t-e-r…m-e-t…J-a-c-i-n…and was the happiest slave on the plantation…a-n-d…they were…free," she whispered. That was another word she wanted to know how to spell. Free. She sounded it out, holding each syllable on her tongue as Jacin had taught her. "F…r….e…" she spelled. She was fairly certain that she was correct, but she would remember to confirm it with Jacin later.

Hours later, Winter was fighting against the hunger pangs in her stomach. She had missed the few supper scraps she was allotted. The Box was very dark now, telling her that it was night.

"Winter."

Winter perked up from her half-sleep. She gasped and huddled closer to the door. "Scarlet-friend, is that you?"

"Sshhh," she was shushed, but Winter could not help the grin that spread over her face. "Clay told me what happened. I brought you some scraps from the kitchen. Feel around for them."

Winter did what she was told, feeling around the crack beneath the door and almost cried of happiness when her fingers found the scraps of meat, bread and cheese that Scarlet was continuously pushing through.

"I am ever-most thankful, Scarlet-friend," Winter pushed out in between bites salted beef. "Perhaps when I am out of my box I will make you a special bracelet made of the finest leaves and flowers a slave can find."

Scarlet chuckled, pleasing Winter. "No need. You just keep your head up in there, Crazy."

Winter could envision with her hand against the door, whispering as near to it as she could, her eyes closed and her long curly hair tumbling over her shoulders. Winter pressed her hand to where she imagined Scarlet's was on the other side and nodded. "I will do just that."

"Jacin might not be able to visit you this time, but I'll see what I can do about coming tomorrow. I have to go now."

Winter heard the flurry of Scarlet's skirts followed by silence. She was gone. Winter sucked in a shaky breath. She had to be strong. She could stand two days of loneliness. If Jacin could not come, it was because he was trying to keep the both of them safe. She was lucky that Scarlet had even managed to come out tonight.

Scarlet frequently oversaw the slaves in the house, making sure they did their duties perfectly, but she was mostly Levana's errand-runner along with Sybil Mira. Winter had only met her because Scarlet saw to it that the younger slaves were growing healthy and strong, visiting slave quarters to do so. Winter had been making bracelets for the children and when Scarlet had spotted Winter, she had smirked and offered Winter a ladle of water.

Ever since then, Winter had known what true friendship was.

Levana glided down the hallways like a ghost, her long white sleeping gown trailing behind her like a wedding dress. She held up her candle for light, but otherwise the mansion she resided in was dark. She swung her door open and sat on her bed.

It had irritated to her to hear that the stupid slave, Winter, had been put into The Box again. It was possible that the slave was just faking mental illness to get out of work. Soon other slaves would follow along in this game, feigning insanity.

No. Levana would not let that happen. Those slaves would be whipped remorselessly. Winter was lucky because she had promised Evret that she would keep his daughter safe. Turning to stare at herself in the mirror a slow smile started to grace her features.

Of course, Levana did not think that Winter receiving lashes was not keeping her safe. Even White children sometimes received punishments that hurt. No, Levana had different reasons that Winter's flawless skin would never be marred, other than the three scars that Levana had inflicted on her face years ago after her love's death.

Winter, so pretty despite her black skin, would be sold to the highest bidder…who was welcome to do with her as he pleased as long as he signed a contract stating that she would never be harmed. If they chose to take the girl's innocence was of no concern to Levana. Winter was seventeen years old now, a ripe age. It was only a matter of time before she could get rid of her insane slave.

She could keep her promise to the slave who had taken her heart and died with it in hand and make a profit at the same time.

Evret had been killed because of Levana's infatuation with him, but his daughter would live on as a prized possession to a great owner because of Levana too. Her heart could finally heal and finally be done with the whole matter, once she did not have to see Winter's face in her fields any longer.

A long howl in the distance caught Levana's attention, causing her to scowl. There was a dog or some other stray beast that seemed to live in the woods close to Levana's land. She would have to send out one of her Overseers to kill it one day if it kept making noise.

"Awwooooohhhhh!"

Levana gnashed her teeth together. It was faint, the slave quarters a good distance from Levana's dwellings, but she was sure she heard it.

That darn insane Winter howled with the beast.

"Awoo," Winter said lowly, smart enough not to let out such a loud again unless she wanted to be tied up somewhere and forced to stand for the rest of her punishment. Still, she was sure that her night-friend had heard her. He called back to her, his voice strong when hers was weak. Perhaps if she pushed her final chunk of beef through the crack, he would wander up and eat it. Winter pushed the thought away, shaking her head with a melancholy smile. Perhaps one day. But not today.

"Goodnight, Ryu," she whispered, clinging to the remnants of his howls... Clinging to the hope that one day she would be free just like him.