Yay! My first GWTW fanfic. Don't own any of them, though I wish I did. May be a sequel, but I'm not sure yet!
Mrs. Fitzpatrick was joining Cat for a play tea party when it happened. "But you musn't tell anyone," she told Cat. It wouldn't do for the servants to know that their headmistress wasn't above playing children's games.
There were gunshots outside. Mrs. Fitzpatrick hurried to the window, and knelt to face Cat at eye level. "Cat, I have to go see to some things. Stay right here okay?" Mrs. Fitzpatrick asked, trying to keep her tone at an even keel.
"What's going on?" Cat asked.
"Nothing for a little girl to be worried about," the older woman assured her. The child would be okay she was certain. However Column was another story.
Cat looked out the window to see her run across the street into Kennedy's bar. There were soldiers with guns rushing about the street. Cat remembered the stories her mother told her of defeating the soldiers in America, slipping right past the enemy to get home. The shot of a cannon fire ripped through the air. Cat dove under her bed in fright.
"Cat, Cat," she heard someone call.
Cat peeked from behind the dust ruffle to see a little girl she had never met before.
"Who are you?" she asked. Her natural curiosity overcame her fear.
"That's not important. We have to get out of your room now," she said.
"Let's go to Cat's treehouse," Cat suggested.
The stranger shook her head. "We'll go later. We can't now. Come on."
The stranger grabbed her hand, and the two little girls sped down the stairs, and into the kitchen. "Hide here," the little girl told her. Cat nodded.
At that moment, the front door was burst open, and a half a dozen soldiers with loaded bayonets entered. "The way to the O'Hara is through her little one," she heard the clipped accent of the English soldier announce. Cat was frozen as she heard them march past the kitchen. They wanted her.
The little girl next to her started to rub Cat's back, just the way Scarlett did when Cat needed comfort. "You wanna hear a story?" she whispered in a hushed tone. "You can't make a sound though, okay?" Cat nodded, fascinated at who this little girl could be. She spoke the same English Scarlett did, with the same odd drawl. Her eyes sparkled and shone as she wove her tale.
"Once there was a beautiful queen who lived in a very big castle with her daughter, the very beautiful Princess Catherine," she began. She wove a tale of the queen and her princess who lived all alone, until one day, some bad men started a very bad fight in their kingdom. A king who was in love with the queen came to rescue them.
The storyteller's eyes were bright with excitement as she described the strong, black stallion that the noble king arrived on. "He liked to jump too," she said of the king's horse. By the time she wound down to happily ever after, Cat had forgotten about the soldiers that had entered, who had since left the house, convinced she was in her fort.
Another blast of gunshots echoed in the street outside. "Are they throwing rocks?" Cat asked the little girl.
"It's okay. Your mama will be home soon."
"How do you know?"
"I hear her," she told Cat matter-of-factly. "I have to go home now."
"Stay. I can introduce you to Mama."
"I'm sorry. I have to go."
"Thanks for the story – "
"Bonnie."
"Thank you Bonnie."
Bonnie walked out into the field unnoticed and closed her eyes. When she opened them she was home.
"I'm so proud of you sweetheart," her Aunt Melanie said, giving her a big hug.
"Who would have ever thought, my Katie Scarlett, taking Ireland by starm, and the English too?" Gerald O'Hara blustered.
"She was always the most like you out of our girls," Ellen O'Hara reminded him as she received a hug from her granddaughter.
"Will Cat be okay? Will Mother and Father be okay?" Bonnie asked, worriedly.
"Of course they will, darling. Your mother and father love each other so, and your father will adore your sister," her Aunt Melanie reassured her.
"There's none that can touch my Katie Scarlett, except Captain Butler," Gerald said.
