Basics: So uh, ignore the fact that this is totally late and focus instead on the plot, plz? Kthx. C8
Pairings: Trail!Alfred and Indian!Kai. :3 Potentially more!
Summary: While on the Oregon Trail, Alfred encounters an exotic Indian woman- countless times. Who is she? And why does she infuriate him so much? AlfredxOC
Chapter Eight: Kings and Queens
-Kai -
Kai hated seeing her kin like this. It was not only repulsive but frightening; the sheer carnage and brutality of a wounded spirit never failed to amaze and horrify her. She had seen plenty in her lifetime. The years before the white man came, before the land was being turned up by feet and hooves that hadn't been before.
Times were changing. While it stood still, mankind moved forward; but that did not mean death had to follow it, did it? Kai was just as ready to fight for what was hers as she was to appeal to the gentler side of things. In this case, the wholesome massacre of the Whitman family was not the only solution, was it?
She watched that morning as the Indian men took off to their ultimate downfall. She paced unhappily in camp, unsure of whether she was to go after them or stay where she was. Could she be satisfied with herself in assisting with the death of innocent people? Could she bear the ill will of her people if she stopped them from what they thought was right?
She didn't know the answer. What she did know, however, that one thing that her people prided themselves on was being better than the white man. She knew that they were happy to not sink to some of their voracious levels. She knew that if her kin really wanted to prove to the white man who was in charge, they would not be slaughtering them.
Biting her lip fiercely, she grabbed her horse and sped off after the men.
-Alfred-
"Wake up, men!" the man, now called Patrick, shouted out over the men. "The Cayuse have attacked! Hurry up and get your horses ready!"
This was what Alfred had been dreading. So far, he'd had either neutral or good encounters with Indians. Wonderful, if you counted Kai. He didn't know when he'd begun to think of her as wonderful or beautiful, but he knew that it was true and that the idea of having to injure and possibly kill one of her kin was something that made him sick to his stomach.
He should have never agreed to this.
But there were people's lives at stake. People of America. He couldn't just leave them there to be hurt! He forced himself to his feet and climbed onto his horse, barely keeping his hat on as he did so. Before he could really wake up, Patrick was urging him to hurry, telling him to keep close to the group and keep safe as they headed to the distance.
Fires burned. Alfred was almost sure he heard women crying.
"Look at what those savages did," a young man whispered as they stopped a good distance away. "I bet they killed all of 'em 'cept the women. You know, they'll probably sell the women or force 'em to marry into the tribe."
Alfred grimaced and swallowed thickly. In the midst of great change came nightmares, it seemed.
"Alright men," Patrick said once he'd caught up to them, accompanied by several more men. "This is a delicate situation. We don't want any more people getting hurt than there already are, so be careful!"
Alfred stared at the problem that sat before him. He didn't want to go—he didn't want to see the darker side of his Manifest Destiny, what might have been caused by his want for expansion.
He didn't want to see the mess he'd created. But he had to clean it up, like it or not.
-Matthew-
It was early, early morning. It was still dark outside, and he couldn't hardly see anything except for the faint glimmer of their remaining fire and Mona's form curled into his. She shivered softly, and he wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer to him. He dozed off contentedly, giving a soft sigh.
This was the life.
"The life", unfortunately, was interrupted by the shouts of men and the sound of hoof beats coming down the trail. They stopped, and Matthew blearily tried to gather his surroundings as a man kneeled in front of him.
"Matthew! Matthew, can you hear me?" Arthur questioned, cupping the boy's cheeks in his hands. He looked like he was drunk. "Matthew, say something!"
Matthew yawned thickly, sighing. "Arthur?" he mumbled. "What're you doing here?" He was confused. Arthur? Here? It didn't make any sense!
"Mon Dieu! Mon petit Mattieu, you are all bruised up and scraped and—Mona?"
Mona blinked open her eyes, staring at Francis. "Bonjour, Papa," she greeted softly, sleepily. Matthew stared at her with wide eyes.
"Papa?" he repeated, and she looked at him in confusion.
"Yes, Papa," Mona answered. "Why? What's going on?"
Francis kneeled in front of them both. "I'm so glad you two found each other! Matthew," he said gently, "this is your sister, Mona! I wanted to introduce you to her, but it seems you've found each other anyway!" He grinned widely.
Matthew stared. And stared.
Mona was his sister.
He had told his sister he loved her last night. And he certainly hadn't meant it in a brotherly way, either!
"O-Oh," he said after a minute. Mona was now wide eyed too, apparently not having been aware.
"Brother," she repeated. Francis nodded, perplexed.
"What's the matter, you two?" he asked, concerned now. "Don't you get along?"
Matthew and Mona exchanged glances—glances that both said, A little too well.
-Kai-
"Alright!" the chief of the Cayuse shouted. "Kill her!"
Mrs. Whitman was a young woman, precise and neat and beautiful, but she was now messy and ruffled as she was held before the Indian men. Kai reined her horse to a stop.
"Wait!" she shouted. "Don't do it! You say you want to be better than the white man—if that is true, then you would not sink to their level!"
The Chief turned to look at her, eyes narrowed. "You have no say in this matter," he growled at her. "The Whitmans must pay for what they have done to us. Their tyranny must end. Kill her!"
Kai couldn't stand to see the poor women be killed and then brutally beaten after she was dead, as was the custom. She dismounted and grabbed the Chief's arm. "Don't do this!" she shouted at him. "Don't be like them!"
But he didn't listen. He only made the signal and stared heartlessly at Narcissa Whitman.
Kai shut her eyes tightly and released his arm to cover her ears against the horrible sounds that filled the night.
For a few moments after the dead had been done, there was silence; she dared to peek her eyes open, and saw not the mutilated body of Mrs. Whitman but instead Alfred, staring at her with such horror that she almost cried.
This was wrong. All wrong. She hadn't done this. She had tried to stop them! It wasn't her fault!
Alfred only stared at her.
"Kai?" he asked, but she couldn't hear him over the shouts of men. They were arguing and yelling at each other, but she had only eyes for Alfred, who seemed like it hurt him just to look at her.
She wanted to scream at him, It's not me. I didn't do this. Don't think that!
But her mouth did not move. She could only stand there and cry.
Drama. D8
