Disclaimer: It's all at the beginning.Not mine, I'm just playing around. Speculating. Joss is Boss.
A/N - I must say, when I got barely any reviews for Chapter Six, I was a little hurt, but fine. Then, thanks to the genious of Agent Rouka, I realized that the reason I was getting no reivews is b/c...surprise! You've all already reviewed for Chapter Six. So, Chapter Seven is going to be shorter, and Chapter Eight will be posted as soon as I can get it up. It's already mostly written, I just have to finish it off. That way, if you feel so...enlightened, lol, I'd LOVE for you all to review. Please? Okay, enough begging...hehe... Chapter Seven:
Memory
"As memory may be a paradise from which we cannot be driven, it may also be a hell from which we cannot escape."
-John Lancaster Spalding
"But momma—"
"No buts. I don't care. You're going."
"Momma, I don't wanna go. I don't care if'n I got—"
The young woman with warm, chestnut colored eyes and long, ragged brown hair hid a small smile behind firmly pressed lips.
"You're going, and that's final." Bending delicately at the waist, she yanked a thinly woven shall above the chilled skin that stood bared to the elements and brushed at a dirty stain on her daughter's rosy cheek. "And if you plan to belong, you had better clean up that grammar as well. I cannot fathom half the things Ioanna and Rei have been teaching you to say."
The small seven year old stared up at her mother unblinkingly, the gold flecks in doe brown orbs sparkling brilliantly in spite of the dreary chill. Her eyes began to fill with tears. She didn't want to go. She couldn't leave Momma, not here…not all alone like this…
And so she resolved. She would have her way.
One small fist pounded against her side as she jerked away from the pallid hand that was pressed against her clammy cheek. In the middle of her withdrawal, her small feet twisted and she fell onto her backside. Tears welled up in two furious eyes that portrayed all the hate in her young world
"I ain't goin'! You cain't make me! No, no, no, no, no—"
Livid with rage, the young woman reached down and yanked her daughter to her feet. The child seemed to think she had chosen this life!
"Do you want to be like me? You'll go, or you'll never amount to anything, Inara Serra! Do you understand me?" The child's eyes widened, seemingly too large for her small, wane face, the tremors of rage and pain stopped and everything within her numbing to a dull ache. She meant it. Momma really meant to send her away…
The fear in her daughter's eyes twisted the young woman's stomach and heart. Pulling her daughter from the ground, she leaned against the rotten wood behind her and wrapped two thin arms around the young girl's small, gaunt body, almost flinching at the feel of chilled skin through the threadbare material.
Deep sobs punctuated gasping cries as the child clung to her mother's neck. The woman pressed two soft lids together, black kohl running in streams of bleak pain down her gaunt but smooth and shapely cheeks. Thick, languid tears pooled in her beautiful brown eyes and dripped swiftly down a small, thin nose, mingling with the icy drops that had just begun to fall from the deep, grey sky.
Hundan…
A rapid jerk threw Inara gently into the wood paneling of the elegant buggy and she glanced up sharply to gaze out the window. A metallic plated building met her scrutinizing gaze. It towered above the small wood and clay structures planted near it, the feeling rather misplaced in the heavily rustic atmosphere. Something didn't seem quite right. Why—?
"Excuse me," Inara placed a delicate hand on Colonel Crook's forearm, drawing his attention towards her, the icy blue that met her gaze unnerving in its familiarity. She flinched vaguely. "I was curious as to exactly where our destination lies. This doesn't seem to be much of an area for the landing or departure of spacecraft."
He smiled warmly, an enchanting curve that brought structure and an impressive allure to his already undeniable manner.
"I see you are not solely a woman of airs. My commanding officer has asked for a word with you before we commence our trip to Sihnon."
She nodded gently, folding two attractive hands in a delicate manner into her lap and burying the small twist in her breast beneath a delicately crafted veneer of calm ambiguity. She had already shown herself too inquisitive. Better for them to think less of her than more. She could only hope that the composed façade was holding its own as her fingers twisted one another, a nervous habit she had retained since before her days in House Madrassa.
Pressing back gently into the overstuffed seat, Inara lowered her eyelids, slowed her breathing, and drew silently from the only strength she had left.
Mal…